


Tarantella

by Ultimate_Philistine



Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Talentswap (Dangan Ronpa), Ballroom Dancing, Day At The Beach, Drama, Drunken Confessions, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Humor, Hope's Peak Academy, Hotel Kumanami | Hotel Kumasutra, Hurt, Hurt/Comfort, I Will Go Down With This Ship, Killing Game (Dangan Ronpa), Morning Cuddles, One Shot Collection, Post-Canon, Post-Game, Romance, Short & Sweet, Sleepy Cuddles
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-11
Updated: 2021-03-02
Packaged: 2021-03-05 22:15:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 16
Words: 77,175
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25812646
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ultimate_Philistine/pseuds/Ultimate_Philistine
Summary: Few would have guessed that Shuichi Saihara and Kirumi Tojo were ever meant to be. Despite appearances, despite expectations, the detective and the maid cross paths, time and time again.A series of quick, disconnected one-shots between Kirumi and Shuichi, varying in seriousness and tone. Populating the Shuichi/Kirumi tag, because someone has to.Latest Update: "Servant of the State - Part I" -Protect and serve, but never trust - that's the only way to survive.That's what Ultimate Detective Kirumi Tojo has told herself all these years. One doesn't get to head the homicide division in the Tokyo Metropolitan Police by being sentimental, especially at her age. Only unwavering commitment and dedication to her task keep her going, through all the spilled blood and shed tears the job entails.But being trapped in the Ultimate Academy for Gifted Juveniles and forced into a killing game is no ordinary case. Surrounded by the unfamiliar faces of fifteen other Ultimates, this is one job she can't do alone, and she might just find an ally in an unlikely source... the Ultimate Butler, Shuichi Saihara.
Relationships: Saihara Shuichi & Tojo Kirumi, Saihara Shuichi/Tojo Kirumi
Comments: 127
Kudos: 281





	1. The Cat of the Baskervilles

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this mostly to have something to post while my next, longer work takes form. It's a Saitojo fic again, I'm afraid, but that's going to be a common pattern going forward.
> 
> Enjoy!

Shuichi is beginning to suspect that Kirumi is secretly a cat.

He ponders his hypothesis as he sits on a bench in the Ultimate Academy courtyard, soaking in the warm afternoon sun. He's had a hunch for several days now, gathered from closely observing the maid's behavior, but as a wise man once said, extraordinary claims require extraordinary proofs. Only with a rigorous forensic investigation will he be able to definitively prove his suspicions.

A perfect mission for the Ultimate Detective.

He pulls a small notebook and a retractable pen out of his breast pocket, clicking the pen several times with his thumb. He flips through the faded pages, stopping on a page headlined _The Cat of the Baskervilles_ , and taps a finger on the line reading _EVIDENCE_.

First on the list is behavioral analysis. In public, she acts as aloof and detached as always, presenting the very image of elegance and subservience as she serves the other students with an admirable neutrality. But as soon as the two of them were alone on a night she'd all but pounce on him, wrapping her arms around him and nuzzling him affectionately. Sometimes, he'd swear he could practically hear her purring.

Shuichi nods. A distaste for public affection, coupled with a hunter-like tenacity. Very, _very_ feline. Satisfied with this point, he clicks the pen twice more and heads to the next line.

She seems to like fish, even taking into consideration the heavily maritime Japanese diet, and it frequently finds its way onto the menu she prepares for the class every day. But on the other hand, she doesn't seem to care for canned tuna, writing it off as tasteless "mass-produced swill."

Shuichi frowns, regrettably crossing the line out. Not the crystal-clear evidence he was hoping for.

There's circumstantial evidence supporting his claims, too. Tsumugi had crafted for her an adorable cat-eared headband not long ago - Angie had wanted to paint a fresco of some ancient feline god, apparently, with the maid reluctantly agreeing to be the model. Once the whole affair was over she had quietly stowed the accessory away, promising to 'dispose of it later,' only to surprise Shuichi later by greeting him with it on. She'd done her damnedest to stay her usual, composed self, pretending that nothing was different, but try though she might she could never hide the blush coloring her cheeks. He smiles, just thinking of the memory. _God_ , that was adorable. Refocusing on the task at hand, he records this evidence under "possible feral instinct."

 _Elementary,_ thought he.

He jots down several more clues in quick succession. She doesn't seem to like swimming, and has never set foot in the pool. She takes her coffee with a ridiculous amount of milk. She has little patience for Kaito's antics, and he's definitely the most dog-like of the bunch.

Lastly, perhaps the biggest clue of all, is the sound she makes when he kisses that one spot on the back of her neck, a sound suspiciously, _undeniably_ , like mewling. He blushes despite himself just thinking about it. The side everyone always saw to her was so refined, so calm, so _chaste_ \- he likes to think details like this are their best-kept secrets, reserved for him and him alone. If this evidence ever got loose, he'd never hear the end of it.

Shuichi pauses his scribbling and taps a finger to his lip, deep in thought. Any other sounds that might bolster this point? After some time, he writes "further experimentation required" underneath the bulleted line.

He lifts the pen from the notebook and nods enthusiastically, heart swelling with the thrill of the chase. For being so capable, Kirumi was so _foolish_! She's left a paper trail a mile wide in her wake. All Shuichi had to do was follow. Yes, the Ultimate Detective is hot on her tail. Not that she _has_ a tail, of course.

That he knows of.

Reviewing his case notes, his enthusiasm suddenly falters as he makes a disturbing realization. Something is missing.

He slaps a hand to his forehead and curses himself for having missed it, a glaring, gaping hole threatening to tear his entire argument asunder.

_Cats like playing with yarn, right?_

He grimaces, furrowing his brow in frustration, as his mind works itself into a frenzy. A critical piece of evidence, still missing from the puzzle - the final bullet of truth essential for his breakthrough.

She seemed to like knitting, sure, and was definitely handy with a needle and thread, but that wasn't quite the same thing. What clue was he missing? How could he wring the solution to this persistent, final problem out of her?

An idea dawns upon him. Maybe he could ask Kiyo for some rope.

He makes a quick note of this and leans back, marveling at his assembled arsenal of evidence. The incriminating intelligence stretches across several pages of his trusty notebook. One last bit of legwork, and the last piece of the puzzle will finally fall into place. He'll confront Kirumi soon enough, and no matter how much she might squirm, she'll never be able to deny the charges, guilty beyond all reasonable doubt.

Shuichi slams the book shut. He leaps to his feet, pumping a fist in determination.

_"I promised to find the truth, absolutely no matter where it leads._   
_I'll expose Kirumi's lies, and make her face that same truth herself..._   
_...I'll conquer my fears, and find the true path forward! I will fight with truth and lies in this class tri-"_

His inner monologue grinds to a halt. His determination withers and dies, and in its place the seed of doubt takes root. He flips open the notebook, still clutched in one hand, and pores over its contents once more. He purses his lips and tenses suddenly, threatening to crush the flimsy book in his grip.

"...What the hell am I doing?"

Shuichi feels the burning shame that comes with a joke that has overstayed its welcome. He claps a hand over his face, mumbling hopelessly under his breath. Tearing the offending pages out of his notebook, he tosses them lazily over his shoulder. He stuffs the booklet back into his pocket and trudges away hanging his head, embarrassed at his little flight-of-fancy.

Maybe he'll go bother Kaito. A spot of exercise might help him forget this whole business sooner.

***

Elsewhere, Kirumi Tojo sets down a pair of garden shears, wiping the sweat from her brow with the back of her gloved hand. Satisfied with her handiwork, she rises to her feet and dusts off her dress. She sets off walking, admiring the newly beautified hedges lining the Ultimate Academy pathways.

Their animatronic headmaster had requested that she "trim a few plants", promising it a "simple, five-minute gardening job." She should have known something was up when he broke into a fit of giggling halfway through his orders. He had neglected to mention that a "few" just so happened to constitute _every_ hedge, vine, and tree within the Academy grounds. What should have been an easy chore had ballooned into an entire day of back-breaking work.

But it was not, of course, beyond the Ultimate Maid's ability.

A glimmer of white amongst the rows of green catches her attention. She twitches slightly, her perfectionist streak irked by the sight, and makes her way to the offending hedge, searching for the source of the blemish. She soon has her answer - a few mangled bits of paper lie stuck amongst the leaves, fluttering loosely in the wind. Kirumi sighs, bending down to retrieve the scraps. She enjoyed her job, sure, but it would be a far _easier_ job if the other Ultimates would only stop _littering_ everywhere. She makes a mental note to chide her classmates on the subject later. 

A familiar piece of handwriting catches her eye. Intrigued, she delicately unfolds the wrinkled pages, careful not to damage their contents. The word _EVIDENCE_ stares back at her in all capitals, the Ultimate Detective's unique script unmistakeable. 

She scans the document quickly, eyes dancing over the neat lettering filling it to the margins. Her eyes widen slightly, and she touches a hand to her lips, her face ever-so-slightly tinted a fine rouge.

"Most intriguing indeed," she murmurs aloud. Smiling, she folds the pages into her apron and sets off walking again.

Perhaps she'll wear the headband when she goes to see him next. Or perhaps she'll address him as ' _Meow_ -ster', just to see how much he squirms.

One thing remains certain. Shuichi is in for a _very_ interesting night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, Shuichi, that's what you get for trying to be cute.
> 
> The title of Shuichi's dossier is named for The Hound of the Baskervilles, one of the more famous Sherlock Holmes stories. Likewise, "'Elementary', said he" is Holmes' famous catchphrase, and the phrase "persistent final problem" is styled after The Adventure of the Final Problem. It's fun to think that he just casually works Arthur Conan Doyle references into his thoughts whenever he can.
> 
> I guess even Shuichi Saihara gets to have his fun now and again.


	2. A Spider on the Wall

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kirumi struggles with her growing feelings for Shuichi, and wishes she could somehow know if he reciprocates. Fortunately, Miu is keen to help, offering her a convenient, if unethical, solution.

Kirumi stands by the side of the Ultimate Academy pool, sweeping diligently at the mess beneath her feet. She sighs in disappointment - every time the Ultimates come here to go swimming, they always leave the place trash-strewn and messy. It's probably Kokichi's fault, she grumbles silently, or perhaps Himiko's. Honestly, the two are so immature she sometimes wonders whether they are truly high-school students at all.

 _A maid's duty is not to complain,_ she chides herself, cleaning out her dustpan. She spares a glance at the three boys crowded around the table at the opposite end of the pool, chatting happily over snacks and canned drinks. Even from afar, it's impossible not to recognize them.

Kaito Momota, the Ultimate Astronaut.

Rantaro Amami, the Ultimate of unknown talent.

And Shuichi Saihara, the Ultimate Detective.

Absorbed in conversation, they don't seem to notice her looking their way. She doesn't blame them - she's not the type to draw attention. The rhythm of her sweeping slows to a crawl, as she finds herself staring longingly at the detective. She bites her lip and puts a hand to her heart, feeling that same inexplicable feeling of tightness returning to her chest.

She doesn't know when it started. Maybe it was after his repeated insistence on meeting with her, simply "just to chat". She didn't get it the first time, of course. Or the second, or the third, or the fourth. Without even thinking she'd parsed every word of his, searching for some order to follow or request to fulfill, typically taking her leave and throwing herself into her mission the moment she heard a suitable command like 'make tea.' Eventually she caught on, but it had taken some rationalization on her part, promising Shuichi that she would serve him by "entertaining him with conversation." His disappointment was palpable, but he conceded it was a milestone nonetheless.

She grimaces just thinking about it. No one ever accused her of being the Ultimate Social Butterfly.

Their rendezvous became a regular occurrence as Shuichi gradually coaxed her into opening up. For the first time in a long time, she had someone she could call a friend - even if, on instinct, she had once requested that he sign a contract stating as such, as if he were hiring her services, before realizing her mistake and burying her head in her hands. Most of the others at the Ultimate Academy saw her as little more than a distant acquaintance and a trusty servant - not that she blamed them. She had readily insisted on being addressed as such herself. But not him - no matter how much frustration he encountered trying to pry open her shell, he steadfastly refused to treat her as anything other than his equal.

What had started with curiosity towards this boy, who so stubbornly refused to place her on the pedestal of the perfect maid, had gradually turned to fascination, then infatuation. The realization hit her like a freight train when she'd finally connected the dots one evening - she only noticed how distracted she was preparing dinner that night once she realized she had been chopping at an empty cutting-board for five minutes straight.

Sometimes she wonders if Shuichi could ever feel the same way. It's impossible for her to guess, no matter how keenly she might try to observe his behavior. She barely understands her _own_ emotions - since arriving at the Academy she's missed more than enough social cues to know that analyzing another's feelings is decidedly not her area of expertise.

Maybe one day she'll work up the courage to tell him how she feels.

She quashes the idea immediately. Her role is to serve, she reminds herself, not to chase her own happiness. She promised herself long ago that she would shed all personal desire, fashioning Kirumi Tojo into the ideal loyal servant. She's recited the mantra _selfless devotion_ so many times that she can repeat it in her sleep, wielding it as a hammer to smash any resurgent traces of her old self. She prides herself on this dedication, the sole reason she believes she's earned her Ultimate title.

And yet...

Even at a distance, she can still make out their faces, and she can't help but feel her heart flutter when she sees the detective laugh. She smiles in their direction, half in bemusement and half in resignation, and refocuses herself on her work. _This isn't too bad either,_ she supposes. _The rest can always come later._ She sweeps dutifully at the floor and hums a gentle tune. At least she can settle into her work in some peace and quiet.

A door bangs open and a shrill voice rings out. _"Well, well, well, if it isn't my favorite big-titty goth GF!"_

Kirumi closes her eyes and sighs. So much for 'peace and quiet.' She forces on her usual friendly smile as she turns to face the pink-clad interloper. "Ah. Miss Iruma. A pleasure as always."

"Ha! If it's _pleasure_ ya want, ya came to the right person!" Miu latches onto the word immediately, and she puffs out her chest in pride. "Why, you need something to pick you up? A little _invention_ for those lonely sleepless nights?" Her hands make a vulgar gesture and Kirumi feels her stomach churn. "Don't be shy!"

"No, thank you," Kirumi mutters, mentally adding to her blacklist of words to use in Miu's presence. "What can I help you with this fine afternoon?"

She shrugs. "Eh. Nothin', really. But I was thinking, maybe _I_ could help _you_!" Miu leans forward, arms behind her back, a smug smirk plastered across her face.

The suggestion fills the maid with dread. "Er... what do you mean by that?"

"Have I got a gift for you!" Miu produces what looks like a plastic tube, and eagerly thrusts it into Kirumi's hands. It looks curiously like a toy, or perhaps some kind of crude weapon, its boxy shape housing a bulky lens. The phrase _Gun of WoMan's Passion_ is engraved on its side, save for the _Wo_ messily scribbled atop the original lettering in permanent marker. Several colored wires protrude from the gaps in the plastic, and a plastic dial has been haphazardly fastened onto its side.

Kirumi examines the device warily. "...What is this, exactly? A bomb?"

Miu scoffs. "No, dipshit." She waves a hand over the left side of her face in a mockery of Kirumi's hairstyle. "I know you're blind in one eye and all, but I thought you could still see at least a _little_."

The maid fights the urge to scowl. "Of course. How silly of me. And my vision is just _fine_ , thank you very much." She offers the inventor her trinket back. "If you came here merely to insult me, then I'd very much rather you be on your way."

"W-wait! At least hear me out!" Miu visibly shrinks, her usual bluster giving way to desperate begging. "You don't even know what that thing is yet!"

"Yes, and I am quite content to stay that way forever. Good day, Miss Iruma. I bid you farewell." Kirumi grips her by the shoulders and gently steers her towards the exit.

"N-no! Wait! Please!" Miu struggles in her grasp, eyes welling up with tears. "Will you l-listen to me if I make it a request?" she sniffles. "You gotta, right?"

Kirumi sighs, trying not to roll her eyes, and releases her hold on Miu. "Yes, I _suppose_ then I have no choice. Very well, Iruma. Do your worst."

Miu seems to puff up at the concession. Her confidence newly restored, she grins from ear to ear and plants her hands on her hips. "So! I was buying some stuff from the shop, and I thought I'd take a chance on that MonoMono thingy. Y'know, the one with all the stupid gifts and shit in it?" She snickers. "Think I hit the jackpot with this one!"

"So it's a toy," Kirumi says flatly, clearly unimpressed.

Miu shakes her head vigorously. "Nuh-uh! You're _wayyyy_ off! But I don't blame ya, I guess. Not everyone has my well-trained eye for valuable shit! I mean-"

"Just get on with it."

"I mean, at first I thought this was just some stupid shit like all the other worthless junk they got in there, but believe it or not this baby's actually a fully functional _telescope_!" Miu sniggers loudly. "'Man's Passion', eh? I bet they put this in there so that the boys could go and creep on us girls in the showers or some shit. Ha! Fuckin' weirdos! Bu-ut, if they _wanted_ to get a load of this smokin' hot bod of mine, I guess I couldn't blame-"

"I think you've said quite enough," Kirumi interrupts. Her grip tightens on the poorly-made plastic prize. She silently hopes no more of them are still waiting in the gachapon machine.

"So I thought, why not take this baby and give those fuckin' virgins a taste of their own medicine?" Miu breaks out in a coy, mischievous smile, and she sidles up to Kirumi, playfully nudging her arm several times. "Y'know, just as a secret between us girls... nudge nudge, wink wink, say no more, huh?"

Kirumi sighs. "Am I to believe you were planning on engaging in _voyeurism_?" She purses her lips, her face the image of pure disappointment. "Such base debauchery is altogether repulsive, even for you, Miss Iruma. I had thought it impossible to overestimate the extent of your vulgarity, but sadly it seems I have once again been proven thoroughly incorrect."

Miu shrinks back in shock, her smirk wiped from her face, and lets out a pathetic squeak. "N-n-no... it's not like that... I'm not... I'm not that kinda girl..."

Kirumi says nothing, cocking an eyebrow in withering skepticism. Miu sniffles, looking very small indeed, before her cowardice gives way to indignation and her temper flares again. "F-fine! I try to do one nice fuckin' thing, and this is how ya treat me!?" She snatches the telescope from the maid's hands, angrily shaking it in her face. "I didn't do anything pervy to it! All I did was add a listening device! This lets you snoop in on any conversation up to a range of one hundred meters, guaran-fucking-teed! We're talking good ol'-fashioned spy tech! Kids used to dream about this kinda thing, ya know!"

Kirumi is unconvinced. "Incredible. You took a device intended solely for twisted, perverted purposes, and somehow made it yet _more_ suited to the task."

"Y-you know what!?" Miu squeaks. She jabs a finger in the direction of the pool, towards the trio of boys chatting happily at the other end. "I just wanted to help, 'cuz I can't fucking stand watching you creep on those three virgins and _mope_ like some fucking ugly old man who can't get it up! You wanna know what they're saying, well today's your lucky-fuckin'-day!"

Kirumi blinks. "...You intend for me to eavesdrop." There's a hint of skepticism lacing her tone.

Miu scoffs. "Uh, duh- _doy_. Plus, I'm _pretty_ sure I heard Sherlock Homo over there mention your name at least once."

"He did...?" Kirumi shakes her head. "Not that it matters, obviously."

"Yeah. _Obviously_." Miu clearly doesn't buy it.

Kirumi thinks over the offer carefully. Eavesdropping on a private conversation would be a violation of every principle of ethics and morality known to man. Although she is not the Ultimate Lawyer, she is also fairly certain that such a thing would be highly, highly illegal.

It could also be the only chance she'll have to hear Saihara's true thoughts first-hand.

To her dismay Miu seems to notice, and cackles at the maid's obvious inner conflict. "Curious, eh? So how about it? Wanna give this baby a little spin?"

 _No,_ thinks Kirumi.

"Yes," says Kirumi.

Miu bursts out in laughter, playfully slapping the maid's arm. "Ha! I fuckin' knew it!" She thrusts the telescope towards her, a triumphant grin on her face. "C'mon, let's go somewhere those losers won't see us."

The two opt to hide behind a large potted plant, covertly pointing the telescope at the three poolside revelers. "This has got to be the most disgusting thing I have ever done," grumbles Kirumi, squinting into the viewfinder.

Miu suppresses a wheezing laugh. "What, more disgusting than the _'special service'_ you give your masters, huh? Don't deny it, I know what you goody two-shoes types are like when the sun goes d-"

Kirumi stomps a heel on the inventor's toes, and the blonde squeals in pain. Ignoring her extremely colorful outburst, Kirumi listens intently to the tinny distortion pouring from the telescope's speakers. The audio crackles and hisses noisily, and she frowns, twisting the dial on the device's side. After several seconds of fiddling, the static crystallizes into three distinct voices. 

***

Kaito gestures emphatically at his two hapless companions, something aggravating clearly on his mind. "I dunno, but it feels like something's up with Maki Roll these days," he complains. "She's been avoiding me like the plague. Whenever I see her, she just... _turns_ and runs off. All _red_ , too."

Rantaro frowns at him from across a cup of bubble tea. "Avoiding _you_ , of all people? Seem serious."

"What... do you think the problem is?" Shuichi asks apprehensively, sipping meekly at his canned coffee. He grimaces. It's _far_ too sweet.

"I dunno... I think maybe she hates me or something. I can't think of any other reason," Kaito sighs. "I think she's been leavin' me notes, or something, too. I keep finding them on the door to my lab."

 _"What?"_ Shuichi interjects. An unexpected development. "Please tell me you've at least been reading them..."

Kaito scoffs. "No way! What if it's, like, a threat, or something? Y'know, like one of those letters made from magazine cutouts saying 'Your days are numbered' or whatever? Happens all the time in the movies..." He wrings his hands in dismay. "Like, even if she's gonna kill me, the anticipation'd probably kill me first..."

Shuichi purses his lips. "That's... very imaginative."

"So the past couple of days I've been keeping my distance and sticking to the buddy system. Never know when she might ambush me, or something..." He claps a hand on his friends' shoulders, an encouraging grin stretching from ear to ear. "So that's why you're here! She can't kill us _all_ , can she?"

"Oh, she's _not_ going to like that." Rantaro shakes his head, grimacing. "Maybe you need a few pointers on dealing with a girl's heart, Kaito."

Kaito clenches his teeth in resentment, jabbing a finger at him accusingly. "Sh-shut up! Why would you know jack about girls' hearts anyway?"

"I have twelve sisters, Kaito. It'd be more of a shock if I didn't." Rantaro gives Kaito a warm, well-meaning smile. He's been sitting on that retort for a while. "Although they're a little more... low-risk, since none of them are as heavily armed as Maki."

The astronaut stops and starts, trying to raise an objection, but soon gives up, giving his unwilling sidekick a pleading look. "C'mon, Shuichi. You're a detective, aren't you? Use your deduction skills or whatever and find out what her game is."

Shuichi gives him a blank stare. "Um. She _likes_ you, Kaito. That's the only reason she puts up with your antics."

The astronaut lets out a wheezing, uneasy laugh. "N-nice try, Shuichi, but I'm lookin' for a serious answer here! There's no way that's true!"

Shuichi clears his throat. He's been preparing for this. "She lets you visit her in her lab, when she would threaten to kill anyone else who so much as asks. She answers to 'Maki Roll' for you and you alone, and she lights up like a Christmas tree whenever you tease her. Kaede says that you're the first thing she talks about whenever the two of them are alone, and I'm pretty sure she named one of her knives _Momota-chan_." He folds his arms and frowns. "Honestly, she's been dropping so many hints it's a minor miracle she hasn't given up on you yet."

Kaito blinks in surprise. "Wha-? Really? You think so?"

Shuichi sighs. He's so _dumb_. "Kaito, does she have to spell it out for you in semaphore, or what?"

"O-okay, okay! Geez, I didn't think you could be so harsh..." Kaito folds his arms and grumbles, impatiently tapping a slipper-clad foot. "The hell am I gonna do...? Dealin' with a girl's feelings is downright impossible."

Shuichi and Rantaro pounce immediately, slamming their palms onto the table. " _The impossible is possible,_ " they chime in unison. " _All you gotta do is make it so!_ " They can't help but burst into laughter, and Rantaro offers the detective a high-five.

"Argh, _quit it!_ " Kaito goes bright red as his slogan is so cruelly turned into a cudgel against him. "I never should have told you that, I swear..." He buries his face in his hands and laments the loss of his catchphrase.

The conversation dies down, and an awkward silence hangs in the air.

Rantaro clears his throat, detecting a chance to break the ice. "So, um, Shuichi. How have things with Akamatsu been going recently?"

The question startles him and he chokes on his drink. "H-huh?"

Kaito grins, sensing an opportunity for revenge. "Yeah! You know, pink vest? Blonde hair? Probably perfect girlfriend material?"

"Girlfriend mate-?" Shuichi blushes and coughs loudly. "I mean, yes, I know who Kaede is."

"I think you do a lot more than know her," Kaito snickers, back on the offensive. "You're in her lab an awful lot. Been playing a lot of piano duets together, huh?"

"Y-yes, but that's all it is! Really!" The detective looks pleadingly to his green-haired friend. "You know what I'm talking about, right?"

Rantaro shrugs. "I mean, you two do get along awfully well."

"But-but not like _that_!" Shuichi protests, hands raised defensively. "Kaede and I are just good friends, and that's it!"

" _Really_." Rantaro leans forward, intrigued. "And it's never even occurred to you to try and, y'know, go past that?"

" _No!_ Well, okay, maybe a little..." The detective tugs down the brim of his hat, hiding his blushing face from view. "But I can't do that. Not now. I can't risk losing what we have."

"What kind of excuse is tha-" Kaito pauses mid-sentence. There doesn't seem to be much point in arguing. "I guess not, huh...." He strokes his goatee thoughtfully. "Okay, then how about the maid?"

The three don't seem to notice the sound of a distant sneeze.

Shuichi seems taken aback by his friend's suggestion. "What, you mean Kirumi?"

Rantaro chuckles. "Is there some _other_ maid here that you haven't told us about?"

"Well, no, but..." Shuichi frowns. "What does she have to do with anything?"

Rantaro stares off into space, as if deep in thought. "Well, lemme see... for starters, she really treasures that sewing set you gave her-"

"I just had to get rid of it!"

Kaito interrupts the two. "Yeah, and, whenever she comes around to do my laundry or whatever, she always asks me what kinda stuff you're into, or what your favorite food is, or when your birthday is.... super-seriously, too." He shudders. "I wouldn't wanna get on her bad side..."

"That's- that's- she does that for everyone!"

Rantaro scoffs. "Yeah, _no_. And, I'm pretty sure she's been giving you extra portions at breakfast." He frowns, thinking over the memory. "Playing favorites, I guess?"

"Sounds like _someone's_ got a secret admirer!" Kaito grins and elbows Shuichi in the ribs, the detective squirming in place and tugging on his hat again. "C'mon, don't tell me ya didn't notice."

"N-no way." Shuichi seems to pout. "And besides, even if that were true, why are you bugging _me_ about it? She can do what she likes."

Rantaro doesn't let him off that easily. "Oh, please. You make way more requests of her than anyone else here. Really simple ones, too, considering how much time they end up taking..." The amnesiac nods approvingly. "If I didn't know better, Shuichi, I'd say you were just looking for an excuse to talk to her."

Shuichi says nothing, still hiding behind his hat. "...I mean, _someone_ has to..."

Kaito bursts out in another wheezing laugh. "Comin' from you, that's like a full confession!"

The detective splutters. "No, seriously, guys, it's not like that! ...What's with you today? First Kaede, now Kirumi? Are you trying to play matchmaker or what?"

Rantaro coolly shakes his head. "Not _playing_ at anything, Saihara. I'm just tryin' to help."

"Well, thanks, I guess..." He fidgets uneasily. "But maybe I'm content to just, y'know, be friends with everyone for now. I mean... look where we are! There's more important things to worry about than that kinda stuff."

"Yeah, sure," scoffs Kaito, playfully punching his sidekick in the arm. "I bet you're gonna tell me that she's 'too good for you,' or some other cliche, sappy, rom-com-type bullshit."

"B-but she _is_!" Shuichi responds indignantly. The other two guffaw loudly at his response. Clearly, that was the wrong answer. He takes a breath and offers one final denial. "She's just my friend. That's it. She helps me out, and I look out for her, because that's just what friends _do_." They still don't seem to buy it, smirking knowingly at him in smug silence. He sighs in defeat, giving his friends a resigned shrug. "Besides, at the end of the day... I don't think I could ever go out with Kirumi. You know how she is... it'd be like dating my own _mother_."

"Ouch, that's harsh..." Rantaro winces. "You'd... better not ever tell her that." 

***

Miu hears a loud crack, and out of the corner of her eye she sees Kirumi twitch. She creeps closer and taps the maid on the shoulder, worry seeping into her voice. "H-hey, Tojo, something wrong with the - what the _hell!?"_ She rears back as the maid turns around, a pile of broken plastic littering her palms. Miu gapes at her in horror. _"What the fuck is wrong with you!?"_

Kirumi hands the inventor the ruined halves of the telescope, her expression cold and unreadable. "My apologies, Miss Iruma. It seems your invention is _defective_."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ouch, indeed. Poor Kirumi - even in a fic nominally dedicated to shipping her, she still gets compared to a mother and seemingly loses out to Kaede. Hang in there! Keep trying!
> 
> This chapter stems from me totally misunderstanding what the Gun of Man's Passion in the MonoMono Machine was. I thought it was a telescope from the sprite, but apparently it's just a toy that does literally nothing. What a joke....
> 
> Not too pleased with how this one turned out, but I can't stand letting it sit unfinished any longer.


	3. Old Wounds

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kirumi betrayed the others, and paid the price with her life. Even without her by his side, Shuichi beat the killing game, escaping from the ruined Academy with his two surviving friends, only to discover that the whole thing was an elaborate simulation. The sixteen contestants thus sent back to their normal lives, Shuichi wonders if he'll ever see his lost love again.

Shuichi Saihara stares out the window of the train, the view blurred by the rain slashing against the glass. The outside world rushes past, an endless sea of soulless grey concrete, but a single faded billboard catches his eye before the train roars into a tunnel and it, too, vanishes from sight.

Even with just a split second to read, he knew perfectly what it said. _Danganronpa 54_ , it read, sporting a black-and-white bear smiling gleefully from behind the lettering. _Auditions starting soon!_ Plastered over it, another hastily-painted message read simply, in large block letters, _CANCELLED_.

He grimaces, clutching his book bag close to his chest, and looks away. Even now, it seems, he can never truly escape the killing game.

The memory of that first fateful day in the Ultimate Academy still haunts him to this day. Alone in the desolate, overgrown Academy, he had worried that he'd never be able to trust anyone, or that he would be the first to fall victim to the killing game. Only his first real friend, Kaede Akamatsu, had been able to convince him otherwise, that no matter how desperate things seemed he was never truly alone.

He'd felt so relieved to have someone by his side that he'd worried it was too good to be true. In the end, of course, he was right. His fearless, hopeful friend had murdered a classmate in a misguided attempt to save them all, and she paid the price in her blood.

That she was actually innocent made no difference to the game's cruel masters.

His world shattered following Kaede's death, he very nearly lost the will to go on right there and then. He remembers those dark days all too well - he couldn't eat, he couldn't sleep, he couldn't do anything other than lock himself in his dorm and despair. It seemed as if the killing game would do him in, without a culprit laying a single finger on him.

Only a timely intervention by the Ultimate Maid had turned his spirits around, apparently tasked by Kaito Momota to rescue his 'sidekick.' It had taken a lot of coaxing, and she had probably been tempted to give up on him several times over, but something - whether her sense of duty, or a sudden swell of compassion - had compelled her to try day after day to break into his shell. When he finally did give in, the look of sheer relief on her face was something that he swore he'd never forget - a rare burst of emotion from the eternally stoic servant.

Kirumi seemed to see something in him, and she returned to his side time and time again, far more often than what her mission required. What had started as merely fulfilling a request, a simple act of duty, began to grow into something far different. As she pulled him back from the abyss, he'd seen a new side to the machine-like maid that so tirelessly devoted herself to others. Beneath the cold exterior of the flawless automaton lay an ordinary teenage girl who liked action movies, had a poor sense of humor, and loved receiving presents. And as the days passed, the mask gradually began to slip, even if only in his presence. That same loyal servant, against the odds, somehow became his friend.

And then, if only for a moment, something more than that. His heart still aches whenever he thinks of it, about their midnight meeting that fateful day, their interlaced fingers, their heartfelt confessions under the artificial moonlight. He remembers, as vividly as if he were living it again, her tears of joy at having her feelings returned, his noble promise that he'd protect her to the end, the gentle feeling of her lips upon his.

As brief, as short, and as fleeting as it was, it still felt so real to him. After Rantaro was murdered, after Kaede was so cruelly taken from him... how hopeful the feeling, to have a companion he could trust.

And how horrible the betrayal when she used that trust against him.

She had seen her own motive video, that much he knew. Her memory restored of her vow to save the country from catastrophe, she had, without hesitation, murdered Ryoma Hoshi to win the killing game and escape. She had killed in cold blood, all to save the nation from a crisis that turned out not to exist.

She had betrayed Kaede's trust, twisting her dying wish into a shield with which to deflect all accusations. She had betrayed her so-called friends, not even batting an eye at the idea of leaving them all to die in her place. She had betrayed _him_ , even, so willingly throwing him to the wolves, and berating him, insulting him, _mocking_ him when he had zeroed in on her crime. And when the deed was done, her death sentence laid out, she couldn't even submit for punishment, screaming loudly and fleeing for her life in a final, pathetic display.

He knows he should hate her for what she did, but despite it all... he can't. Not after what happened to her next. Even now, long after the trial, long after Danganronpa had finally come to an end, it still gives him nightmares.

That terrifying, blood-curdling scream, when she was so cruelly sliced to ribbons by a myriad powered saws.

That look of pure anguish on her face, when that distant light, her sole chance for salvation, turned out to be nothing but a child's drawing, and the vine to which she clung suddenly snapped and fell away.

That sound, that horrible, sickening _crunch_ , when she finally fell to earth, every bone in her body shattered to pieces in a nauseating burst of red.

He doesn't care if she was the blackened. He doesn't care if she betrayed him. _No one_ deserves to die like that. The others had quickly forgotten about their fallen classmate, and none seemed to miss anything about her except her cooking. But not him. He alone knew what had truly been lost that day.

Even as his friends were felled left and right, he did his best to maintain hope in the face of overwhelming despair. In the end they were victorious, the three sole survivors standing proudly atop the ruins of the Academy. At last, the fallen had been avenged - Rantaro, Kaede, Ryoma, Kirumi, and all the others whose lives had been so cruelly torn from them. But then the world started to collapse in a flood of glitches and errors, and Shuichi suddenly awoke screaming in a featureless hospital room, a VR headset clamped over his face. They were alive, the medical staff had told him, all sixteen of them - but they would never be the same again.

Some part of him still wishes that he could see Kirumi again, even after all she's done. The staffers at Team Danganronpa had explicitly warned him against it. _None of your friends were real,_ they had told him. _You know nothing about what they could be like now._ He knows this to be true - he had seen the auditions, for Akamatsu, for Momota, for _himself_ , and he saw first-hand how different they all were. Kaede, so bright, cheery, and optimistic, in reality a soulless, empty shell, filled with nothing except hollow spite. Kaito, such a heroic, trusting figure, in reality a sneering, heartless killer, gloating openly at the chance to betray his friends and win the game. And Shuichi himself, the unlikely hero, the one to finally end Danganronpa with his own two hands, in reality gleefully anticipating the chance to murder one of his new friends before ultimately being slaughtered like a sheep.

Undoubtedly the fallen Ultimates were now to their earlier selves restored, their fictional personas dying with their avatars in the simulated Academy. Even if their memories from the killing game remained, their personalities and emotions did not. Only Maki, Himiko, and Shuichi were spared from this fate - with the show's end and Team Danganronpa's impending financial doom, they'd said, performing any more brainwashing was a luxury they could ill afford - the company had opted simply to restore their memories before kicking the three to the curb.

The Kirumi Tojo that Shuichi had come to know and love is gone, now existing only in four recorded episodes of Danganronpa Season 53. Somewhere, some other Kirumi lives on, utterly different save for the name and a superficial resemblance. He sometimes entertains the idea of searching for her, of desperately hounding every nook and cranny in Japan to find the last remnants of the girl he loved, but even he knows this is ridiculous. On the off chance he did somehow find her, what would he even expect? Who was the _real_ Kirumi Tojo before her mind was hollowed out, and the Ultimate Maid installed in her place? Was she as cold and heartless as the others had been? Was she instead kindly, upbeat, or happy?

He has absolutely no clue. They wouldn't show him her tapes.

And what of Shuichi now? What fate lay in wait for the so-called hero who had convinced the world to abandon the killing game, and brought the mighty Team Danganronpa to its knees?

A return to his ordinary, boring high school, and his ordinary, boring life, living with an ordinary, boring family which he himself barely knew. He remembered his family, of course - he had known them since his birth - but trying to so much as speak with them sent waves of pain crashing through his head, his memories of childhood in this average family clashing with his memories of growing up in his uncle's care. His parents could tell there was something different about him, and seemed to keep him at arm's length, as if he were a mere stranger inhabiting their son's body. Lonely and confused, left in limbo between reality and fiction, Shuichi often found himself longing for his uncle, or for his famous but neglectful parents overseas, even, despite knowing in his heart that the three of them were about as real as Monokuma.

A chime sounds from the train's speakers, shaking him from his reverie. In a monotonous digital voice, the name of the next station is announced, and several of the passengers shift or stand, ready to disembark.

The train pulls into the station. With a loud hiss the doors slide open, and a wave of stone-faced travelers floods in. Shuichi stiffens and hugs his bag to his chest as the train gets packed tighter. He's lucky to have a seat already.

He finds himself staring out at the crowds lining the platforms, an endless ocean of salarymen and high-schoolers milling aimlessly about. He knows better by now than to try, but sometimes he can't help but search, hoping that one day he'll recognize the outline of Iruma or Oma or Chabashira, or _anyone_ that knows what he's been through. He leans closer to the glass, and finds himself mindlessly scanning the crowd once more. He'd even settle for finding _Shirogane_.

A flash of silver amidst the waves of brown and black catches his eye, and his heart skips a beat. His head snaps around, searching desperately for the source, and he sees a tall girl in a dull green sailor uniform, clutching a briefcase in both hands. She walks steadily towards the exit, a beautiful ashen veil of hair swept over one eye, crowned by a little black bow.

_It's her._

His mouth runs dry, and his bookbag starts shaking in his grip. Why? _How!?_ Of all the trains, of all the stations, of all the cities in Japan, how could she be _here!?_ Is she a mere ghost, or is this some sort of cruel joke? 

He knows that he should turn away, forget about her, and quietly finish his commute home. Nothing good ever comes from opening old wounds.

But he can't.

He leaps up from his seat and bolts out of the train, ducking through the doors just as they close. His body seems to move on its own, faster than he thought he was capable of, desperately chasing after the phantom of his lost love. She disappears around a corner, but he gives chase, feebly shoving his way through a crowd of commuters.

"Wait!" he shouts, and several people around him stare in confusion. He heaves for breath as he continues to pursue her, and shouts out another plea. _"Don't go!"_ She doesn't seem to notice, and she bobs in and out of sight, her faded green uniform masked from view by an endless ocean of black suits and uniforms.

His lungs burning, he quickens the pace, hurriedly navigating the labyrinth of the station's subterranean tunnels. She vanishes, reappears, and vanishes again, through a turnstile or up a staircase each time, but Shuichi relentlessly pursues. He's getting so close now, almost close enough to touch her. He doesn't know what he'll say, what he could _ever_ say, but he damn well has to try. He reaches out a hand and calls her name, throat dry and voice hoarse.

_"Kiru-"_

She suddenly trips on a floor tile, and lets out a squeak, falling to the ground with a loud bang. Her briefcase clatters to the ground and falls open, loose papers swirling every which way. She pushes herself up from the floor, visibly trembling, and Shuichi hears the faint sound of sniffling.

"Kirumi!" A stern voice calls out to her, and someone suddenly shoves Shuichi aside. A woman in an austere black dress storms past him, rushing to the side of the fallen girl. A distinctive headdress crowns her head, and Shuichi realizes that she must be some kind of maid.

"What are you doing? Wasting time again, I see?" The maid sighs, leans down, and begrudgingly begins collecting the papers strewn across the floor. "Look at this awful mess you've caused. Must you _always_ be such a disaster?"

Kirumi visibly shrinks, seemingly on the verge of tears. "I-I-I'm so-"

"Don't apologize to _me_ , young mistress. Save your excuses for your father. Honestly, I wouldn't have thought anyone so utterly _helpless_ could be a Tojo at all."

Kirumi flinches at the maid's low blow, but is powerless to dispute the accusation. She whimpers another apology, eyes cast down at the ground.

Shuichi watches the scene with a mixture of curiosity and dismay. _This_ is Kirumi? This pitiable, helpless thing? He approaches her slowly, and despite knowing he shouldn't, he calls her name again. "K-Kirumi? Kirumi _Tojo_?"

She turns around, staring up at him through teary eyes. For a brief moment, Shuichi sees the hint of some emotion buried in her face. But she blinks suddenly, wiping her tears away with one sleeve, confusion marking her features. "...Who are you?"

The denial cuts through him like a knife, but he stands his ground, swallowing nervously and offering her a hand. "It's... it's me. Shuichi. Shuichi Saihara? You remember... right?"

Her silence is deafening. She stares at him for a few seconds, before something seems to click. She makes no sound, but Shuichi can see it in her face. The memories of the Ultimate Academy, of the Ultimate Maid, of the killing game, of friendships, of love confessions, and memories of _him_ , all shining brightly in her eyes... then memories of the motive, of the murder, of the trial...

...of her _punishment._

Her eyes go wide with terror, and she shrinks away from him, clawing at imaginary scars from a million simulated cuts. "N-... no! Get away from me!"

"H-huh?" He takes a step towards her. "B-but Kirumi, I-"

_"Stay **away!** "_ she shrieks, scrambling to her feet, and before he can say anything she bolts off in a panicked, undignified sprint. Shuichi starts to give chase, and he tries to call out her name. But the memory of the Ultimate Maid running so desperately for her life flashes into his mind, and he halts immediately, paralyzed.

"Young mistress!" The maid calls, but her charge has long since disappeared. She sighs loudly, stuffing the last of the scattered papers into the briefcase, before rising to her feet. She whirls around to face Shuichi, giving him the deadliest of glares. _"Who do you think you are?"_

Shuichi's mouth goes dry and he struggles to respond. "Um... well, I... I'm..."

"I don't know _what_ your connection is to Miss Tojo, but if you know what's good for you, you will leave her alone _right this minute,_ " she snaps, all but spitting in his face. "Do _not_ attempt to contact the young mistress again." She turns and storms off, grumbling under her breath, searching for Kirumi with not a single glance back at the bewildered boy detective.

Shuichi stares in disbelief, still paralyzed with fear. He wants to say something, to chase Kirumi down again, to throw his arms around her and hold her and tell her he's sorry.

But he knows he can't do any of that.

His panic subsiding, he lets out a shaking, shuddering breath, shoving his hands in his pockets and trudging away. Of course. He should have known something like this would happen. It was naive to think otherwise, to hope that somehow their past feelings would reach each other, that they could still have their happy ending. No matter what she did, no matter if she deserved it, in the end _he_ was still the one who exposed her crime and condemned her to die. She'll probably never forgive him, any more than she can forget the memory of her own excruciating death.

He reaches for his hat, his longtime trusty crutch, but finds himself grasping at empty air instead. He pauses, confused, before he suddenly remembers. Of course. He promised he wouldn't wear it anymore.

He stumbles his way through the endless waves of commuters, desperately in search of an exit. He doesn't know where he's going. He just has to get out of here. As he makes his way out of the station, weaving through the thronging crowds, he feels a sudden lump in his throat, and he desperately fights the urge to cry.

Outside the rain is pouring now, drenching him to the bone, but he's far beyond the point of caring. He staggers his way to the wall beside a large vending machine and collapses against it, sinking to the floor as his despair overtakes him.

"I'm sorry," he sobs, though he knows she could never hear, "I'm so, _so_ , sorry..."

He knew it, of course. He'd known it all along. He'd held out hoping otherwise, but seeing her there in that station had finally crushed all remaining doubt.

Kirumi - his Kirumi - is dead.

And he was the one who killed her.

***

_A television monitor slowly flickers to life, its display mottled with meaningless static. The screen buzzes and flickers and hisses, slowly settling to the image of a girl in a green sailor uniform, standing in the middle of a featureless room. She fidgets nervously, refusing to make eye contact with the camera, and uneasily shifts her weight between her feet. "U-um... Number 510... my n-name is Kirumi Tojo." Her voice is weak and quiet, and wavers audibly with each word._

_"Welcome, Miss Tojo," a voice calls from off-screen. "We've got just a few simple questions for you today. First - what made you decide to audition for Danganronpa? It seems like... like you're aiming a bit low by being here."_

_"S-sorry?" She stutters out the question._

_"It says here that the Tojo family controls quite a large business group. Ah, rolling stock and heavy industry, it seems. I hear they are quite influential in politics, as well. Is that not enough for you?"_

_She hesitates. "They said I was supposed to take over the business... that I was supposed to become someone important... but I know I'm too useless to do any of that." She pauses, suppressing a sniffle, before continuing in a voice even weaker than before. "I just w-want to do something people will r-remember."_

_"There are plenty of other ways to amount to something, but fair enough, I suppose." A quiet scribbling noise fills the air. "Do you have any existing talent that could be a basis for Ultimate status?"_

_"Y-" she falters. "No, not really... I'm not really good at anything."_

_"Of course, of course," the interviewer murmurs. Hardly unusual. "And do you have any idea what sort of character you would like to be?"_

_"E-everyone always says that I'm so helpless, and that I can't do anything on my own..." her voice dies down to a barely audible whimper, and despite her considerable height the girl looks very, very small. "S-so if I could be someone dependable... someone p-people could rely on... then that'd be plenty for m-me. Like my... like our maid." She looks over her shoulder, as if the maid in question is standing there, judging her. "She can... it feels like she can do a-anything. N-not like me..."_

_"I see." Off-screen, a pen clicks several times, and the sound of turning pages is heard. "Well, thank you for your time. I believe we've seen enough."_

_She pales visibly, and sinks to her knees. "N-no! Wait! **Please**!" she begs, hands clasped and eyes welling up with tears. "You don't understand! I **have** to do this! Even if I die right away, even if no one likes me, I **have** to-"_

_"Thank you, Miss Tojo. If we find a good fit for someone of your background, we'll be in touch. Good day."_

_"But-!"_

_The unseen judge clicks his tongue. "I said **good day.** " _

_The footage ends._

**_Danganronpa Season 53 Ultimate Auditions_ **

**_Applicant #0510, K. Tojo_ **

**_Notes from the Writing Team:_ **

_"I don't think I've ever seen anyone so pathetic in my life. Heiress to a wealthy family, utterly dependent on others (particularly the family maid), scared of her own shadow. My first inclination was to reject her on the spot - I **hate** it when the applicants try to beg. However, at the insistence of the interviewer we have opted to give #0510 a closer look."_

_"She may not act like it, but she looks a bit like the 'cool beauty' personality, and perhaps an older-sister archetype as well. We recommend selecting an Ultimate Talent that reflects this. If any of our other candidates develop an attachment or dependence on her, an act of betrayal would be all the more dramatic. I know the act of making such a wimp into a character everyone can count on will raise a few eyebrows, but through Ultimate Real Fiction all things are possible. Moreover, the irony would be absolutely delicious."_

_"Shows little promise for character development or plot importance. Normally this wouldn't bode well for her chances, but we always do need a few nobodies to get whittled down in the earlier chapters. We suggest elimination by Chapters 2-3, either as the blackened, or as a victim during her own failed murder attempt."_

_"One way or the other, betrayal is a must, and it remains to devise a motive (and likely an execution) that reflects this - see attached Production Note 'Strand of Agony.' I doubt many in the audience or the cast will miss her much - I know I won't. It's a shame - if only our format didn't demand six whole chapters, then we wouldn't need so many extras walking around the Academy. Regardless, she seems to fit the bill well enough for our purposes. A forgettable, B-lister individual, portraying a forgettable, B-lister villain._

_Not everyone in the cast can be a hero, after all."_

_**Suggested Talents:** Teacher, Child Caregiver, **Maid**_

_**Suggested Fate:** Executed, Ch. 2_

**_Final Verdict: APPROVED_ **

_-Season 53 Creative Director Tsumugi Shirogane_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I did say these were going to vary in tone, didn't I?
> 
> We know little about what pre-game Kirumi was like. But I like to believe that the Ultimates' "true selves" are always cruelly ironic inversions of their personalities we see in game - friendly Kaede hates people, brave Kaito is a ruthless killer, heroic Shuichi is Danganronpa's biggest fan. It follows, then, that the opposite of the Ultimate Maid, who can do anything under the sun and is relied upon by everyone, is a useless shrinking violet, who is utterly dependent on others for everything. A rich girl spoiled rotten by the family maid seems like a good fit, and I believe a certain fan-artist subscribes to this theory as well.
> 
> One of these days I'll write a oneshot where Kirumi and Shuichi actually get to be happy together, but evidently today is not that day. The next chapter will be cheerier, I promise.


	4. Summertime Service

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Ultimate Academy heads to the beach on an unexpected day trip. Shuichi tries to bond with Kirumi during a rare moment together, but she insists on fulfilling her duties as loyally as ever. When she starts to show signs of overwork, it falls to Shuichi to turn things around.

The sixteen students of the Ultimate Academy stand on the shore, gazing with awe at the flawless ocean scene before them.

Shuichi blinks, his voice tinged with disbelief. "It's... _the sea..._ " He honestly thought he'd never see the beach again.

"I don't believe it..." Kaito grins, shielding his eyes from the sun as he takes in the dazzling view. "Who'd have thought Monokuma'd ever let us come here?"

"I plainly can't believe it, either..." Tsumugi smiles innocently at them, and forces herself to laugh. 

This wasn't supposed to happen. There was no way the plot could ever justify the students leaving the Academy. But the higher-ups had spoken; the focus groups all wanted a beach episode, and so Team Danganronpa had hurriedly arranged for the Ultimates to be bused to the nearest private beachfront in unmarked, windowless vans, and passed the trip off as Monokuma's "reward" for good behavior. The students had been understandably skeptical, and didn't want to play along, but they fell in line in the end after a little 'gentle persuasion' from the Exisals.

She only hopes the contestants will be able to suspend their disbelief. The audience sure as hell won't.

Barely ten minutes later, the Ultimates' day at the beach is in full swing. Himiko bobs up and down atop the waves, her arms and waist wrapped in inflatable floaties, and attempts to swim, feebly kicking at the water behind her. Tenko, ever the devotee, watches awestruck, pumping a fist and cheering loudly at her friend's foward progress.

Miu and Kaede splash about in the water, an inflatable beach ball bouncing back and forth between them. They laugh giddily as they continue their game, until Miu steals the advantage by throwing some seawater in Kaede's face. She laughs hysterically at Kaede's pitiful look of betrayal, pointing and shaking and snorting, until the inventor's joy is cut short by a sudden beach ball to the face. 

Meanwhile, Keebo sits hugging his knees on a beach towel, covered head-to-toe in protective plastic sheeting, shaking nervously and staring at the water lapping at the shore. _"NO!"_ he snaps at Miu, in response to her invitation to swim, _"I don't want to get **rusty**!"_

The scene is just as lively on the beach itself. A beach volleyball game has begun, with Maki, Kaito, and Tsumugi staring down Ryoma, Rantaro, and Gonta. Maki's eyes glint with murderous intent, and she serves, a sudden deadly spike bashing poor Gonta in the face. Kaito whoops, clapping his moody teammate on the shoulder, while Tsumugi gapes in horror.

Nearby, Angie is partway through building a beautiful sand-sculpture monument to Atua, and directly next to it Korekiyo works diligently on what looks like a replica of Himeji Castle. The two artworks dangerously close, their creators stare each other down, and Shuichi swears he can see sparks flying between them.

A sudden tremor shakes the earth as a figure comes crashing through both sculptures, and through the sandy haze Gonta emerges, apparently chasing a stray volleyball. The sculptors stare in disbelief, jaws hanging open, before they both let out an anguished, ear-piercing screech. Gonta, horrified, cowers in fear and begs for forgiveness, quickly dropping to all fours in an apologetic bow, before Ryoma and Rantaro arrive, dragging their despondent teammate away.

Watching the summery scene around him, Shuichi can't help but admire his classmates' ingenuity, applying their Ultimate talents even at a time like this. It was Ryoma's idea to set up the volleyball game, repurposing a tennis net from his lab for the occasion. Angie had found no shortage of seaside crafts to pursue, keeping Kokichi and Himiko entertained with making sea-shell necklaces while competing with Kiyo for the title of best sand sculptor. And of course, Tsumugi had so helpfully made swimwear for the entire class - some modest, like hers, and some, like Miu's, pushing the limits of human decency. 

And then there's Kirumi, clad in the same puffy dress-and-apron combination as always. 

Hovering over him like an overprotective parent, she clears her throat, holding a glass in one hand and a large pitcher in the other. "Shuichi, would you care for some iced tea?" She extends the glass to him, clearly not taking "no" for an answer.

"Uh... sure, I guess..." he accepts the drink from her and downs its contents immediately. It's good. He'd expect nothing less - perfect service, as always.

He sighs, handing the now-empty glass back to her. Maybe it was naive for him to think so, but the beach trip was shaping up to be a wasted opportunity. He had worked so tirelessly over the past few weeks to break through her unfeeling facade, and in the end the two had drifted together, his timidity and her self-denial burning to ash in the face of their newfound mutual feelings. He had hoped that would be the end of it, that with a companion to care for she'd finally rethink her unswerving, utter subservience, but evidently he was mistaken.

With all the chores Kirumi so obediently placed upon herself, the stars practically had to align for the two to see each other at all - much less do anything, well, _couple-y._ A day trip seemed like the perfect chance to change that - yet here she is, the same loyal servant giving the same loyal service. Maybe he shouldn't blame her for it - a routine like that, once learned, is not easily unlearned.

Kirumi seems to detect his concern. "Shuichi? Is something bothering you?"

"N-no, it's just..." he pauses. "This wasn't really what I thought you'd be doing here, you know."

She tilts her head and stares at him quizzically. "No? What do you mean by that?"

"I..." he struggles to explain. "I really thought you could do with a change of pace."

"Indeed, I suppose I could," she nods. "Serving everyone in a different environment certainly helps keep the mind fresh."

"That... wasn't the point..." Shuichi mumbles, forcing a smile. _Could you at least drop the 'serving', just this once?_ , he wants to ask, but he knows all too well what the answer would be. "I just thought you could try to relax a little. You know, have some fun?" He tries to broach the subject a subtler way. _"Please?"_

"Relax...?" she stares at him like she doesn't know the meaning of the word. She shakes her head, smiling gently. "Respectfully, Shuichi, I cannot. I promised you all that I would serve you to the fullest of my ability, and that is exactly what I intend to do. The occasion makes no difference whatsoever." 

"But... I..." He shakes his head and decides to give up. Arguing with her would be just an exercise in frustration. "Okay, never mind. I'm gonna go swimming." He strips the shirt off of his shoulders and tosses it aside, leaving him in just his swimming trunks.

"Have fun," Kirumi encourages, offering another soft smile. "Remember to stay hydrated, and use adequate amounts of sunscreen. And please, do avoid going in the water for at least an hour after eating." 

He scoffs. _Yes, mother,_ he wants to retort, but he quickly thinks better of it.

He knows how much she hates it, after all.

Waving her goodbye, he jogs down to the shore, and gingerly places a foot in the water. It's cool, but not cold - the perfect temperature. He places one foot in front of the other and heads slowly deeper into the sea, the water lapping at his ankles, then his knees, then his hips.

He wades further into the ocean, until the water reaches to his waist, and takes a look around him. He can see Kaede, Miu, and Tenko splashing around further down the shore, but no one closer. He smiles, and raises his arms in a stretch, prepping for his swim. It seems he has this stretch of ocean all to himself.

He feels something pull on his ankles, and his legs give way beneath him. _"Help-!"_ he tries to shout, before he crashes beneath the waves and his words are mercilessly drowned out. He can hardly see anything through the watery haze, but he does catch a flash of purple and a wide, toothy grin. 

He struggles violently to escape, flailing his arms and legs about, before he finally breaks free, gasping desperately for breath as he breaks through the surface. The taste of salt still burning his mouth, he whips around, glaring daggers at the other boy as he surfaces from the depths. _"Oma!"_

The dictator giggles loudly, flashing a bright, childish smile. " _Oops._ Did I getcha?" 

Shuichi scowls, cracking his knuckles. "Kokichi, you little-!" He lunges at his attacker, who promptly slips away, cackling, and the two flail around in circles like a dog chasing its tail. "Let's see how much _you_ like being drowned, huh!?"

Kokichi grins from ear to ear, and lets out a grating laugh. " _Nee-hee-hee!_ Catch me if you can, _detective!_ " 

***

Kirumi takes a step back and nods with satisfaction. She's arranged several small tables into a sort of concessions stand, lined with a variety of knives and cutting-boards. Several ice chests form a sort of wall behind her, crammed full of all the drinks, sweets, and ingredients she could carry from the Academy's stores. A pile of neatly folded towels bolsters the makeshift kitchen at each end, ready to catch any spills or be handed out as needed.

It's not the Ultimate Maid Lab, but it'll do. 

She quickly sets to work, chopping and stirring and slicing, tackling the sizeable summery menu she had so carefully selected for the day's afternoon tea. As the Ultimate Maid, it falls to her to make sure everyone in the class is kept happy and full - but not so full, of course, as to spoil their appetites for dinner. It would be a daunting task for anyone - but Kirumi Tojo isn't just "anyone."

A few minutes later, a neat stack of sandwiches and several glasses of iced tea sit ready, and she moves on to making some sweets. The sun bears down on her as she works, and she wipes some sweat from her brow. "It certainly is hot today..." she mumbles to no one in particular. There's not an ounce of shade to be found anywhere. Perhaps she should have brought a parasol.

"Hey, Kirumi!" 

She raises her head and turns towards the source of the voice. She finds Shuichi approaching her, dripping with seawater, dragging a motionless Kokichi behind him through the sand. He drops the other boy to the ground, who makes a noise somewhere between a whimper and a squeal.

Kirumi smiles. "Ah, Shuichi. Welcome back. And I see you brought a friend...." She eyes the dictator warily. "...is he alive?"

Shuichi shrugs. "I... think so?"

Kirumi sighs. "I'll... take that as a yes." She offers him a towel, and he hurriedly dries himself off. "I am currently preparing afternoon tea for the rest of the class. Would you care for some?" She sets a platter on the table, and begins delicately filling it with sandwiches, drinks, and pastries.

"N-no thanks..." Shuichi replies weakly, looking uneasily at the food. His earlier worries start to resurface. "Kirumi, this was supposed to be a fun day out. You really, _really_ don't have to do all this..."

"Of course I do," she responds, without missing a beat. "My pride as a maid demands it." Shuichi looks like he wants to respond, but he gives up, resignedly helping himself to another glass of cold tea.

The scorching afternoon sun burns relentlessly, and Kirumi begins to regret her choice of outfit. She really should have known better than to wear an all-black dress to the beach - she feels like she's suffocating just wearing it. She feels a bead of sweat trickle down her forehead, but she pays it no heed. The Ultimate Maid must not show weakness, after all. 

Shuichi seems to notice, and he stares at her in concern. "A-are you okay? You look kind of... _hot._ "

Kirumi raises an eyebrow. "You know, _most_ women would consider that kind of talk from a colleague harrassment."

The detective splutters and goes bright red. "N-not _that_ kind of hot! I mean, you look warm! _Too_ warm!"

"I haven't the faintest idea what you are talking about," she insists, forcing herself to smile. 

He doesn't seem to buy it. "Are you sure? You can always take a break if you w-"

Her temper flares for reasons she can't explain. " _Yes_ , I am sure," she cuts him off, irritation seeping into her tone, "and I would much appreciate it if you would refrain from interfering with my duties." 

Shuichi recoils. "But-"

" _No_ , Shuichi. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have fourteen other classmates in dire need of my services." She takes the silver platter in her hands and sets off walking. She tries her hardest to keep her composure, but she can't stop the tray from shaking in her grip. She ignores it, gritting her teeth. _Why does it have to be so damn hot today?_ She feels a sudden temptation to douse herself in the iced tea, but she assures herself that a temporary reduction in temperature would not be worth the embarrassment, nor would it be worth the pain of trying to get tea stains out of her dress.

Her condition doesn't improve as she makes her teatime rounds. She hands some sandwiches to Kiyo and Angie, and she feels a headache coming on. She leaves some tea for Miu and Kaede, and her vision starts to blur. By the time she reaches the volleyball game, she's fighting the urge to vomit.

Her mission complete, she trudges back to her station, sweat pouring off of her in buckets. Shuichi is there waiting for her, and he cheerfully waves her over, before the smile vanishes from his face, overcome with worry. "K-Kirumi, you _really_ don't look so good... are you sure you're feeling okay?"

She twists her mouth into as warm a smile as she can manage. "Never better," she says flatly, before her legs finally give out and she collapses to the ground.

***

Kirumi's eyes flutter open, and she groans, furrowing her brow and squinting upwards at the darkened blurs above her. Her vision swims, and her head hurts like hell, but she manages to recognize several figures standing in a circle around her.

"Hey, you, you're finally awake!" She hears the voice first, before the blue-colored smudge coalesces into the shape of Tsumugi Shirogane. She recognizes Angie beside the cosplayer, then Rantaro, then Kaede, then Kaito, and she realizes that the entire Academy class is crowded around her, staring down at her with faces mixing curiosity with concern.

They seem to have moved her beneath a beach umbrella and laid her on a towel, as far out as possible from the scorching heat. Her hand flies to her throat and she finds her necktie's been removed, and that someone has tried, at least, to open her collar, only managing a couple of buttons before evidently deciding not to push their luck. 

She rubs her eyes with one hand. "What... happened?" Her voice comes out in a weak, dry croak. 

"You tell me," Ryoma replies, folding his arms. "I was just crushin' those three at volleyball when I heard Shuichi shouting. Next thing I saw, you were just lying there, gettin' a mouthful of sand." 

"It's _heat exhaustion,_ " Tenko interrupts, assuming a defensive stance. "Saw it every summer at the temple! What were you _thinking_ , running around in this heat dressed like that? You need rest, and hydration, and to cool down, _right now!"_ She hestitates. "Oh, and, I'd suggest getting away from that _degenerate male_ you're lying on, but something tells me you're gonna ignore that part."

Kirumi blinks. "Degenerate...?" Her headrest shifts a little, and she realizes that she's leaning on Shuichi, her head supported by both his arms, resting gently on his lap. 

He leans forward and looks down at her, an uneasy smile making its way onto his face. He lets out a soft laugh. "Uh, hi...?"

She groans and hides her face behind her hands. Oh, this is absolutely _mortifying_. 

"Is this because you were working so hard to serve us?" Kaede asks as she kneels down, purple irises wide with concern. "I mean, we appreciate it, Kirumi, we really do, but it's okay to look after yourself too!"

"Don't worry about me," she insists, "I'm _fine_." She tries to get up, to show them it'll take more than a little sun to bring the Ultimate Maid down, but a sudden wave of nausea hits her and she collapses back into Shuichi's arms. Clearly not fine.

"See, this is exactly what I'm talking about," Kaede counters, crossing her arms and pouting. "Just this once, you don't need to try and serve everyone, okay?"

Kirumi tries to protest. "But..."

The others crowd around, chiming in with their own words of encouragement.

"Cool your jets, Tojo. Your service is good, but it's not worth dying for."

"You should get some rest! Atua says the beach is for fun, not for working!"

"Don't croak yet, titless, someone's gotta clean my Lab!"

"Gonta thinks working too hard is bad! Listen to Gonta!"

"Don't... don't look at me," Kirumi mutters, heat flooding to her face.

"Gee, you shouldn't be so careless! You need to stay cool and get plenty of water!" Kokichi quips cheerfully, holding an open water bottle in each hand. "Oh, speaking of which, let me help you with that!" Before she can respond he splashes both bottles' contents on her, leaving her dripping wet. 

" _Thank you,_ Kokichi," she grumbles, and Tenko apologetically offers her a towel.

The scene calms down and soon the others slip away one by one, some offering their goodbyes and others giving her more self-care advice. With Tenko's parting words (and a veiled warning to Shuichi), Kirumi is left alone with the detective once more, an awkward silence filling the air between them.

Shuichi clears his throat. "So, um, how's it feel to have everyone fussing over you for a change?"

She stirs. "It feels..." _Humiliating_ , is the first word that comes to mind. _Disgraceful_ , is the next. But one look at Shuichi's expectant face, and her complaints all wither away.

 _"Different,"_ she eventually manages. 

He forces a smile. "That's... uh, better than nothing, I guess..."

Kirumi grimaces. "I..." she takes a deep breath. "I'm sorry, Shuichi," she sighs, glumly staring at the ground, "I was careless. I let everyone down. I'll be careful not to make the same mistake again, and redouble my efforts at once-"

Her promise is cut off by a weak smack to her cheek. "Ouch...." She winces, and glares up at his face. "What was that for?"

"For being so dumb, for starters," he chides her. "Who told you this whole time that you should try to relax?"

"You did," she responds dutifully.

"Who told you that you didn't have to work so hard today?"

"...You did," comes the reply.

"And who asked you several times if you were feeling okay, or if you wanted to take a break?"

"...You did..."

"So you worked yourself to the point of collapse, and now the first thing you worry about is getting back on the job?"

"But I have to," she insists. "What kind of maid would I be if I-"

 _"That's wrong,"_ he interrupts, smiling at the use of his catchphrase. "Seriously? Even now, can't you think about anything other than maid work?"

"Well, I-" she starts, but quickly chokes on her words. "But... duty... pride... maid..." her retort collapses and she gives up, sighing loudly. "Never mind, I suppose..."

"Yeah. I'm glad you agree," he confirms, without an ounce of bitterness in his voice. He shifts his weight again, and Kirumi feels him wrap his arms around her, pulling her tighter into a protective embrace.

She pouts a little as the regret washes over her. It wasn't fair. Shuichi just wanted for them to have some fun at the beach. He had probably been looking forward to it, to spending some proper time with her for once in their lives, and she had squandered their chance, unthinkingly slipping back into her usual routine of toil and servitude. She'd even had the gall to ruin his fun, going and getting heatstroke like some kind of fool, and now on top of being left alone for most of the day he was stuck babysitting her, and probably worried sick to boot.

 _It's not my fault,_ part of her insists. Before crossing paths with Shuichi she had been so utterly starved for affection, one could hardly blame her for not knowing how to reciprocate. Nor could they claim not to understand how she's compelled to keep working, after countless years of conditioning under the slogan 'selfless devotion'... but she knows in her heart that this is just rationalizing. She still chose to brush him off, she still chose to ignore his warnings, she still chose to prioritize her _title_ over him.

She feels positively _awful._

"I'm sorry," she mumbles again, the formality slipping from her voice. "I know this... isn't what you were hoping for."

"At least you admit it," he laughs, playfully tousling her hair.

"I'll... I'll make it up to you somehow. I promise."

"Hey, c'mon, don't worry about it. It's my fault for not stopping you sooner." He pauses. "But I accept your apology."

They lie there in silence for a little while longer, Shuichi's arms wrapped protectively around her, her head nuzzled against his chest. Kirumi closes her eyes and slumps into his embrace, listening to the sound of crashing waves and the faint beating of his heart. Oh, how she wishes she could spend the rest of the day like this, just the two of them, but she knows better than to fantasize about it. Her day's been ruined already - it'd be best if at least one of them got to enjoy themselves.

She takes a breath. "Shuichi?"

"Yeah?"

"I... think I feel much better now," she tries to reassure him. "You can rejoin the others if you want. Please, don't let looking after me interfere with your fun."

"And you're just going to go right back to working yourself to death as soon as I leave, right?"

"No. I would never do something so foolish." She pauses. "Well, perhaps..."

Shuichi sighs. "Go figure. I guess I'll have to take more drastic measures..." He frowns, as if deep in thought. An idea pops into his mind, and he smacks a fist into his palm, his face lighting up. _"That's **it!** "_

Kirumi sits up, rubbing her eyes, and squints at him in confusion. "What are you talking about...?" He doesn't answer, only smiling at her in meaningful silence. Her eyes widen in realization. "No..." she whispers, shaking her head vigorously. "You _can't...!"_

"It's the perfect solution," he continues, eyes sparkling innocently, "and a way overdue one, too."

"Don't do this," she pleads, "I'll be more careful, I'll drink more water, I'll take more breaks, I'll do _anything... please, don't-!_ "

Shuichi crosses his arms and nods. "You, Kirumi, are taking tomorrow off."

Kirumi's heart shatters to pieces.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh no! The one thing she canonically hates! Shuichi, what have you done!?
> 
> I thought wayyyyy too hard about how to justify the Ultimates heading to the beach even during the killing game. Turns out that corporate busybody meddling really can move mountains... hopefully the explanation isn't too distracting.
> 
> After the last chapter, we definitely needed something more fluffy. A shame Kirumi still ends up suffering, but at least things work out for her in the end. 
> 
> Well, sort of, anyway.


	5. Valse Sentimentale

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kirumi receives a surprise visit from the Ultimate Detective in her lab. He makes an unusual request: to teach him how to waltz, lest he embarrass himself at the Academy ball the next day. Kirumi complies, working valiantly to rid him of his two left feet, but soon finds herself carried away, seeing a new side to her shy classmate.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I highly, _highly_ , recommend listening to Pyotr Ilyich Tchaikovsky's [Valse Sentimentale](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=O5Q2j7srAHs), this chapter's namesake, once the writing describes the music starting. Especially important are the livelier parts at 1:22, 2:16, and 2:52. Both pieces of music mentioned in the chapter are also linked to in the text itself below, so look out for that.

She wouldn't have thought it possible, but Kirumi Tojo is getting bored.

The uncomfortable thought occurs to her as she stands unmoving in the Ultimate Maid Research Lab. Normally, at around this time she'd be awash in requests, dashing furiously around the Academy ensuring that everyone's wishes are fulfilled to the letter. But today her agenda is conspicuously empty - it seems everyone else had better things to do than bother her. And so she's here, in her lab, standing to attention like a toy soldier, just waiting to be wound up and set into motion. She stays in the center of the room, in dead silence except for the gentle ticking of the lab's grandfather clock. This won't last. Someone will come and make a request of her soon.

They have to... right?

Five minutes pass, then ten, then fifteen. Her discomfort steadily builds as her classmates continue to not arrive. She starts to fidget, uneasily twiddling her gloved thumbs. Why aren't they coming? Do they really not need her at all?

There must be _something_ she can do. The laundry for the week is all taken care of - she made sure of that this morning. Dinnertime won't be for several hours yet - there's not much point in starting cooking now. The Academy halls are utterly spick-and-span - at least, inasmuch as an overgrown mess like the Academy can ever be. No point now in taking a broom to the halls yet again.

No, for once, it seems like everything is completely taken care of. Normally this would be the sign of a good day's work, a well-timed cue to call it a day and take a break. But the Ultimate Maid takes no breaks, never tires, and only occasionally allows herself to sleep. For her... this is _torturous_.

Suddenly she hears the sound of knocking, and she whips around to face the door. "Come in," she calls out, trying to mask the relief from her voice. Finally, someone to request her services! It's probably Gonta, here to ask her to chase down some lost insect of his, or Kokichi, here to demand when dinner will be served.

The wooden door creaks open, and a boy sticks his head inside, his face mostly hidden by a black baseball cap. He looks left and right, as if about to cross a busy street, before stepping inside, having apparently deemed it safe. 

Kirumi studies him curiously as he walks into her lab. Shuichi Saihara is a perplexing individual. He's officially the Ultimate Detective, but he almost resents the title, always deflecting its use with some disclaimer or self-deprecation. He's typically stuck to the hip of the Ultimate Pianist or the Ultimate Astronaut, even though the two are as diametrically opposed to him as one can get, friendly and boisterous where he is quiet and withdrawn. He carries about himself a skittish and fidgety demeanor, and has an almost criminal lack of self-worth, but this doesn't seem to stop him from trying to build bonds with the rest of the class, no matter how capricious or hostile they may be... even Kirumi herself. 

For some inscrutable reason, he regularly insists on keeping her company, but never seems to have any proper requests, leaving her awkwardly hovering nearby, awaiting instructions that will never come. Worse than that, he keeps... questioning her, stringently opposing her efforts to work in his presence. He refuses to answer to "Mister Saihara", demanding that she address him by "Shuichi'" instead. He insists on trying to treat her as some kind of friend, and never his personal maid. It's so tiresome... why can't he simply see her as the same obedient servant that everyone else does? Doesn't he know what a maid is _for?_ She thinks sometimes of lecturing him on the subject, but in the end she can never go through with it, and she always gives in to his invitations. Yes, Shuichi is an utterly harmless and inoffensive character, but still an... _interesting_ one, nonetheless.

Kirumi simply nods in his direction. "Ah... good afternoon, Shuichi. I assume you have some request for me to fulfill?" She unsubtly nudges him towards giving her an order.

The question takes him aback and he struggles to respond. "Well, I do, but..." he sighs, and tugs on the brim of his hat. He always seems to do that when embarrassed or distressed. "It's... it's about tomorrow's event. You know, the ball."

She sighs. Of course. The ball. 

The Monokubs announced the event on behalf of their father: the _Ball Monokuma_ , a garishly extravagant event set to take over the Academy casino tomorrow evening. The Kubs further demanded that the Ultimates wear their Sunday best and dance the night away, promising immediate extermination via Exisal to anyone who didn't comply. The class had been highly suspicious, but the headmaster assured them it was but a simple reward for those who had survived the first class trial - to liven the atmosphere since it "feels as dead as the blackened now does", in his own insensitive words.

Alongside everyone else, Kirumi had reacted with revulsion to the tone-deaf announcement. The death of two of their friends was a morbid, and altogether disgusting, cause for celebration. That attendance was mandatory did little to boost her enthusiasm. Nonetheless, some amongst them, ever the optimists, had insisted that they "make the most of it", and despite their misgivings none had the choice of staying home. Shirogane had even promised to make formalwear for all of them - Kirumi only hopes that her taste in fashion is better than her apparent taste in anime. The party must be why no one is calling upon her services, she realizes. They must be busy, each preparing for the big night in their own Ultimate way. Her distaste for the event grows as she becomes bitter over the loss of work.

"So, um..." Shuichi's voice interrupts her inner grumbling. "Have you... done this kind of thing before?" he asks, a pleading look on his face. "The dancing, I mean."

"I have indeed," Kirumi confirms nonchalantly. "It was practically mandatory for a confidant of the European upper-crust, especially where the nobility were involved." 

"So, that's what I wanted to talk to you about. Could you..." He pauses, and when he starts again his voice dies down to an unintelligible mumble.

Kirumi frowns at him, folding her arms. "Shuichi, please speak up. I cannot possibly fulfill your request if you do not tell me what it is."

"Could you... teach me how to waltz?" 

Kirumi stops. _Him,_ wanting to learn formal dance? She wasn't expecting that. "I... suppose I could," she begins apprehensively, "but... whatever for?"

"I've never... been trained for this kind of thing," he admits. "I'm honestly kind of clueless when it comes to this stuff."

"I assumed as much, but I highly doubt anyone else will have much formal training on the subject either." 

"I mean, I don't know about everyone else, but..." he grimaces, staring glumly at the ground beneath his feet. "I just don't want to embarrass myself at the ball tomorrow. That's all." 

"I see," says Kirumi. "Have you any experience at all on the subject?"

"Um..." he pauses. "No. None at all."

Kirumi purses her lips. "I see." This is not shaping up to be an easy request.

"I-I know it's a lot to ask," Shuichi sheepishly admits, hiding his face behind his hat again, "so I completely understand if you don't want to. Maybe it's... too much of a burden..."

"Excuse me?" Kirumi raises an eyebrow at the veiled insult to her pride. "Do you mean to suggest that teaching you to dance is somehow _beyond my capabilities?_ "

Shuichi's eyes widen as he realizes his mistake. "N- _no_! I just-"

"Under my tutelage, I have made business scions without an ounce of charisma in their bodies into fearless leaders. I have made noble families' heirs who could not even _read_ into world-renowned poets and orators," she insists, sternly wagging a finger in his direction. "I am certain that I can make at least a baseline competent ballroom dancer out of you, Shuichi." Any hesitation she had has vanished, replaced with a burning indignant resolve. The Ultimate Maid _never_ fails in her task.

"Okay, I'm... I'm sorry." He raises his hands apologetically. "So, um..." he looks nervously around the lab. "Where do we start?"

"Well, for one thing, you can shed that hat of yours. It is hardly your most charming feature." Without waiting for a response she takes his cap's brim with two fingers and eases it off his head, ignoring his protests as he grasps at the air where his hat just was. A prominent cowlick springs up from the top of his head, and she squints at it, perplexed. Huh. She thought only Kaede had that. With his brim out of the way she gets a better view of his eyes, his pale yellow irises shining out from beneath his scruffy black bangs. The sight somehow makes her think of a black cat.

Ignoring the thought, she tosses the cap onto the nearby table as she launches into the lesson. "The first thing you will have to master is the box step. Start facing me, with both feet together," she instructs, her voice monotonous and didactic. Shuichi awkwardly shuffles into position, far too distant from her. Kirumi clicks her tongue in disapproval. "You will need to be closer than that, Shuichi. Unless your arms are two meters long, I suppose."

"Oh. R-right." He reluctantly moves closer.

"Good. Now hold this position," she commands. "I presume that, as the gentleman, you will want to take the role of the leader."

He blinks. "But aren't you taller?"

"Does it matter?" Kirumi interrupts, before she takes his hand in hers, their fingers delicately interlacing. "This is a closed-position dance, so you will need to guide the follower's movements," she continues, oblivious to his discomfort. She guides his arm around her waist, his hand finding its way to the small of her back. He tenses at the unexpectedly intimate contact, face reddening as he stares into the ground.

"Shuichi?" Kirumi raises an eyebrow. "Is there some problem I should be aware of?"

"Um, no.. sorry, I just..." Shuichi mumbles out some noncommittal excuse, eyes still cast down low.

Kirumi sighs. "Shuichi, do you want to practice the waltz, or not?"

His head snaps upward and he stares at her, eyes wide. "Y- yes!" he responds, almost indignantly. "Of _course_ I do!"

"Then you'd best get over your embarrassment while we still have time. Miss Akamatsu may find your timidity endearing, but I am afraid that in the ballroom, she may not be so charmed once you start stepping on her feet." He splutters at the mention of the pianist's name, but can't seem to muster a response. 

Kirumi ignores his distress as she continues her instruction. "As I am sure you aware, the waltz follows a simple _one-two-three_ rhythm. You will be leading our movements - first move your left foot forward, in front of y-"

Without warning he plants a foot on her toes with an alarmingly loud crunch. Kirumi winces at the pain and bites her cheek. "...Your _other_ left, Shuichi," she scolds him.

He goes pale as a sheet. "Ah!... S-sorry...!"

"No harm done," Kirumi manages, trying valiantly not to scowl.

He obediently corrects the motion, gingerly sliding forward. She slowly mirrors his movements, careful to give his feet a wide berth.

"Very good," Kirumi says flatly. Praise is always conducive to learning, even just for exhibiting bare minimum competence. "Now, right foot backwards, in diagonal. Then you - no, not yet. Feet together, then draw back. Yes, that's it."

Shuichi obligingly obeys, but the signs of his inexperience are obvious. His movements are stiff and rough, as if he is but a wire marionette twitching unnaturally about. He keeps glancing down at his feet every change he gets, micromanaging his every action. Kirumi grimaces at the sight - they clearly have much to do.

She somehow manages to guide him through the rest of the routine - left forward, glide, right back, glide, forward, glide, back, before they return to their original position.

Kirumi gives a slight nod. "Good. Let's try that again. The basic pattern is much the same as before. Now repeat the motion and- **_gah!_** " She fails to hide her pain as he tramples her foot once more, and she bites her tongue, hissing through clenched teeth. _"Not **that** part!"_

The color drains from Shuichi's face as he gapes at her in horror. "Oh, God, Kirumi, I'm so, _so_ , sorry-"

 _"Save it,"_ she hisses at him. "Let's... let's just get on with it, shall we?" She grips his shoulder again and coaxes him through the box step once more, trying desperately to ignore the throbbing pain in her toes. Oh, this is going to be such a long day. 

Perhaps she should invest in some steel-toed boots.

***

Quite some time later, by some miracle, Kirumi has finally gotten results. She's sure that her toes are now more mangled than a ballerina's, but somehow... she's past the point of caring. 

After what felt like an eternity of coaxing Shuichi to just move without dragging his feet or kicking her in the shins or some other awful mistake, she had finally managed to guide him through an altogether passable waltz. There was no shortage of frustration involved, nor a shortage of trampled feet, and she's counted out the _one-two-three_ rhythm so many times she fears she may go hoarse. But despite everything, he persisted, gritting his teeth after each embarrassing failure and throwing himself into it again. 

If nothing else, Kirumi finds his tenacity oddly endearing.

In the end he finally caught on, leading her through the dance as they twirled around the floor of the Ultimate Maid Lab. The basic steps of the dance since mastered, they'd gradually gotten more adventurous, the repetitive motions of the waltz broken up by dramatic twirls or flourishes. 

"There you are," she encourages, as they return to their starting position. "You may not be turning heads at the Vienna State Opera with dancing like that, but I suppose this is good enough."

He sighs, releasing his hold on her waist. "Thanks... I guess." He makes his way to the nearby wall and leans against it, exhausted after nearly two hours of practice holding her hand in a near white-knuckle grip. He looks up at her, wringing his sore hands. "So, what do we do now? I kinda want to take a break..."

Kirumi frowns, glancing at the grandfather clock at the room's end. They've lost more time than she would have liked. "Time is of the essence, Shuichi. I fear that may not be possible." She strides over to a large cabinet, flinging open its doors. From inside she retrieves a large paper sleeve, its faded yellow surface defaced with what looks like Russian text. She carries it over to the dresser, where a vintage phonograph sits ready atop its surface.

Shuichi shifts uneasily. "Um... what are you doing?"

"I think," suggests Kirumi, "you may be ready to try it with some music." From the sleeve she retrives a large vinyl record, and gently sets it atop the turntable. She lowers the needle, and the Ultimate Maid lab fills with the soft melody of Tchaikovsky's _[Valse Sentimentale.](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=O5Q2j7srAHs) _

She returns to the center of the room, and beckons him over. Reluctantly, he leaves his place by the side of the wall and joins her, easing a hand around her waist once more.

"The tempo of this piece may vary a bit," she warns him, "but do not let it worry you. It begins slowly, and picks up gradually from there. Just... go with the flow, as they say." He gives her a quizzical look, stunned at her use of colloquialism, but nonetheless he grips her hand in his and begins to lead them through the dance.

The _Valse_ starts slowly with a faint _pizzicato_ and the melodramatic singing of a violin. He moves painstakingly slowly, careful not to overstep the waltz's meandering tempo. He remains unnaturally stiff, all but crushing her hand in a vice grip, and Kirumi suspects that he's holding his breath. 

"Breathe," she reminds him. "Your partner can do without you passing out on the dancefloor." Wordlessly, he obliges, and his tension starts to slip away. The pace slowly begins to quicken, and he seems to find his footing, the stiffness fading from his movements, and his dancing gradually loses its hard mechanical edge. While she can't be certain, she even thinks she sees the hint of a smile crossing his face.

The tempo suddenly rises, and their rhythm rises to match it, with a newfound airy spring to their steps. Kirumi carefully monitors his progress, only giving him a curt nod of approval. As the music hits a pause, a dramatic drawn-out _fermata_ , he surprises her when he suddenly raises their interlocked hands, easing her through an under-arm spin. The move catches her off-guard and her breath freezes in her chest. She only taught him that for completeness' sake - she didn't think he would actually _do_ it.

Their eyes meet as she turns to face him again, and he offers her a smile. But it's somehow different from his usual, sheepish smiles where he twists one corner of his mouth as he looks away and stutters. This time he betrays none of his typical self-deprecating air. Kirumi studies his face as discreetly as she can - perhaps it's the addition of the music, perhaps he's just caught up in the mood, but he seems to project a confidence she hasn't seen in him before, and his dancing, so stiff and lifeless not even an hour ago, has been beautifully reborn, practically gliding across the floor as if floating on air.

Despite herself, Kirumi smiles back as they continue the waltz, gliding across the floor to the same one-two-three pattern as before. Well, she certainly can't fault him for lack of enthusiasm. His passion doesn't seem to falter as the _Valse_ continues along, and against her better judgement she finds herself staring, captivated by his newfound boldness. 

She's only seen that side to him once before, during the closing act of their awful first class trial. Armed with painstakingly arranged and irrefutable evidence, he had stood there before them, steely-eyed and resolute, as he detailed the intricate workings of the elaborate murder scheme. Purposeful and determined, as if the eyes of the very world were upon him, he finally accused the culprit with a pointed finger, his other hand held close to his heart, denouncing the killer by name as they cowered in defeat. Though she was not the intended target, even Kirumi could feel the energy lacing his words, and the sheer _power_ behind his piercing glare.

But this time, there is no crime to be exposed, nor a culprit to be condemned. The resolve flickering in his eyes lacks its previous edge, the righteous anger of his pursuit of justice traded for the gentle reassurance of a guiding hand. His very spirit seems to rise with the dynamics of the Valse, his usual timidity - _pianissimo_ \- traded for courage - _mezzo forte._

Ah, she realizes, that must be why he so piques her curiosity. Even for the brief time she's known him, she's seen enough to know the gentle kindness he shows to his peers, but only in the class trial has she ever seen it coupled with that bold determination. To see this shy, timid boy in this brave new light, to bear witness to his glorious metamorphosis... Kirumi feels herself drawn in like a moth to a flame. Enthralled, _entranced_ , she feels an unfamiliar tightness spread to her chest as her heartbeat steadily rises. Though strange and foreign, scary, even, the feeling is somehow...

_...intriguing._

She grimaces, forcing the thought aside. She forces herself to look away as she continues the dance, trying to ignore the warmth rushing to her face. What's happening to her? Perhaps she's coming down with something? She should definitely check her temperature once this is done and over with.

Her gaze falls to his face, and once again their eyes meet. His smile widens further still, and despite herself she blushes, feeling something in her chest flutter. Without thinking, she pulls him closer, tightening her grip on his hand.

The move catches him by surprise and his air of confidence falters. "K-Kirumi?"

"Quiet," she chides him, "focus on the task at hand." She closes her eyes and lets her mind wander as the orchestra's strings sing out, the waltz fast approaching its bold crescendo.

And then, as if by magic, she's free from the confines of her lab, from the overgrown cage of the Ultimate Academy. She's in the gilded halls of Saint Petersburg, swaying under the chandeliers of the stately Winter Palace. She's in the opera houses of Vienna, surrounded by the landed elites of the grand Opera Ball. She's in the Hall of Mirrors at Versailles, dancing the night away amongst the world's luminaries and leaders. She's back in all those opulent, exotic places where she once lived, loyally offering her services to her rich and powerful masters. But no more is she the stranger in a strange land, the mysterious, inscrutable Japanese maid, never without company and yet very much alone. This time, she's not offering her hand to some European noble's progeny, nor being made to consort with the heir of some business empire. She's not a mere trophy to be sought after by the elite, nor a tool to be discarded once the moment has passed, a beautiful automaton in a gilded cage.

This time, she's not alone.

She imagines the two of them in the grand ballroom of a Paris hotel, swaying back and forth in perfect lockstep, two halves of a greater whole. The scene is spectacular, ornate and gilded, but she pays her surroundings no heed. Her mind is consumed with the feeling of his steady hand leading her through the waltz, his fingers meshed so delicately with hers. It may be but a mere daydream, a self-indulgent flight of fancy, but despite her being trapped in the prison-like Academy, Shuichi is still there, his hand locked with hers, as real and as alive as she knows herself to be. She smiles as he leads her round in circles, her fantasy, her fiction, made _real_ , just this once.

The two spin in graceful circles, their footsteps synced flawlessly to the rhythm of the _Valse_. The music hits a bolder, flightier section, and they quicken the pace, pulling apart from each other as they twirl about, only to draw back together as the tempo slows, until he's all but wrapped his arms about her in a tight, cozy embrace. 

As they dance, Shuichi stares at Kirumi, utterly transfixed. Her eyes are closed, as if she's drifted off to sleep, but still she dutifully follows his lead, drifting back and forth as he guides her through the waltz. Although her mind seems to be elsewhere, he can still see the joy in her expression, and he hears her softly humming the melody to which they gently sway. Never in a million years would he have thought she were even capable of such a thing - the Ultimate Maid, always so stoic, calm, and austere, overcome with bliss as she melts into his arms. The sight seems so out of character, so jarring, so _bizarre_ , but somehow it also pierces him to his core, and his heart swells with awe for this girl, the loyal, unfeeling maid finally set free, if only for a moment. 

The sudden burst of emotion eats away at his resolve, and his confident aura wavers. He tries his hardest to keep his composure, to not betray the nerves behind his fearless outer facade, but he can't possibly ignore the feeling of his pounding heart, threatening to burst from his chest at the slightest provocation. He knows he shouldn't stare, and he so wants to look away, but he's powerless to do anything but gaze, hypnotized by Kirumi's tranquil face. He's not that attached to her - he's barely ever so much as had a conversation with her - but somehow, here in this moment, with her movements matched so perfectly to his, the sight stirs something in him - what _is_ this? What' _s wrong_ with him?

The tempo dies down again as the music reaches its somber conclusion. Kirumi pulls closer to Shuichi, pressing into his embrace, and he steadies his hold on her in response. Their movements slow to barely above a crawl, and Kirumi hears something pounding furiously in her ears. What is that sound? Is that her heart, or his? Distracted, she loses her focus, and in all the excitement she lets her guard slip. 

Just as the waltz reaches its dramatic final note, her heel catches on the floor, and she feels her weight slip out from underneath her. Her eyes go wide as she pitches over backwards, too surprised to even make a sound, and she braces herself for impact... 

...but it never comes. 

In the blink of an eye Shuichi is there, following her down as if on instinct. His arm swoops low, a bracing hand on her lower back, and he raises their interlocked hands above him. Their downward motion halts in a picture-perfect low dip, as Kirumi feels her very heart freeze.

She freezes there, suspended just above the ground, eyes locked with his, his faded yellows mirroring her brilliant jades. He hovers above her, eyes wide with concern, and he's so, so close, his face, his lips, all but brushing hers. She tries to speak, in protest, in thanks, or in anything in between, but her words all die on her lips, leaving her powerless to do anything but stare, face flushing a brilliant pink. Shuichi seems every bit as shocked as her, his mouth slightly hanging open in surprise, and he freezes in place, paralyzed by some unknown force. They stay locked in the pose for several agonizing seconds, in dead silence save for the empty static of the phonograph and the strained sound of their heavy, awestruck breaths. 

"U-um... you can..." Kirumi's voice finally squeaks out, about an octave too high. "You can pull me up now...."

Shuichi blinks, and in an instant the spell is broken, his confidence vanishing into thin air. "Oh! S-sorry!" Abashedly looking away, he dutifully helps her recover, his hold on her waist tightening. It takes all of her willpower not to gasp as she's pulled upward, gripping tight onto his pinstriped sleeve. She mumbles some muted words of gratitude, and the two quickly separate, the lab falling back into an awkward silence.

Kirumi clears her throat. "I-I, um..." she folds her gloved hands and stiffens her jaw in a feeble attempt to calm her tremors. "Just... excuse me for a moment."

"Why, was..." Shuichi's usual nervous air has returned in full force. "Was it that bad?"

"N- _no_. Not... not bad at all." Kirumi curses her own weakness as her voice wavers and cracks. She turns away from her partner and puts a hand to her mouth, hoping he didn't notice just how deep her blush has gotten. Even through her gloves she can feel the heat pouring from her face, and she barely hears the detective's words over the blood pounding in her ears.

Her mind keeps drifting to that dramatic final note. She had very nearly ruined everything, getting carried away in the moment and nearly sending them both to their doom. She supposes she should be thanking him for his quick thinking, but... why couldn't she say anything? Why couldn't she _do_ anything? She shivers just thinking about it as that same unfamiliar feeling washes over her, once more tugging at her helpless heart. 

"So, um..." Shuichi's feeble voice brings her back to reality. "How was it? The dance, I mean."

Kirumi steadies herself and tries to reassemble her composure. She clicks her tongue, turning back to face him. "Your performance was..." she begins. _Mesmerizing_ , she wants to say. Or perhaps _hypnotizing_ , or _dazzling_ , or any other equally glowing word capturing the sheer thrill she just lived through. She swallows nervously and offers a different appraisal instead. "... _satisfactory_. This may be a reasonable point at which to conclude your training." Her usual emotionless tone returning to her voice, she feels herself calm down, recovering her typical dignified poise.

"Oh..." Shuichi laughs awkwardly, not quite convinced. "You really think so?"

"Have you any reason to question my judgement?" she counters. "I am quite confident that, if nothing else, you will hardly be the _worst_ dancer on the ballroom floor." She returns to the phonograph and retrieves the vinyl record. Examining it, she frowns, noticing a thin layer of dust sitting between its ridges, and begins dutifully polishing it off with a gloved finger.

"...Thanks, I guess..." Shuichi doesn't seem sure whether to be grateful or offended.

Oblivious to his conflict, Kirumi nods in approval. "Yes, I am sure Miss Akamatsu will be most delighted with the results."

"Akamatsu...?" Shuichi blinks, confusion crossing his features. "You mean Kaede?"

"As opposed to Himiko Akamatsu or Miu Akamatsu, I presume?"

"No, but..." he pauses. "You keep bringing her name up. What does she have to do with anything?"

The question takes her by surprise, and she struggles to explain. "W-well... naturally... I would _assume_ that she was your intended dance partner, seeing as you two do seem rather close." The vinyl is utterly clean by now, but her polishing intensifies nonetheless. "I... do not mean to _intrude_ in your personal affairs, but frankly I must admit the two of you make a fine match. She obviously shares a very strong bond with you, far more than I- _or anyone else, I mean-_ could ever hope to." Her heart aches at the self-deprecation, as if tacitly admitting defeat, but she doesn't give herself the chance to dwell. "A-anyhow, I digress. You will far from disappoint her, I am sure."

"But... no, I don't think you understand." Shuichi straightens his posture and squares his footing, planting himself firmly before her. A hint of that same resolve he showed on the dancefloor flickers in his eyes, and he takes a deep breath, putting a hand to his heart.

"I... was hoping to dance with _you_."

Kirumi freezes. Her heartbeat slows to a crawl and the record slips from her grasp, noisily clattering to the floor. " _...Me?_ I apologize, d-did I hear that correctly?" 

"One hundred percent." Shuichi stands his ground, not missing a single beat.

"But..." Kirumi stumbles, fidgeting with her hands. "Why _me_? Surely there is no shortage of others who you would much rather consort with. You needn't concern yourself with what I-"

 _"Don't say that,"_ he insists, cutting her off. He pauses and takes a breath. "I mean, you're always working so hard for everyone, and you keep saying that you never want anything in return, that you always put everyone else's desires above yours... like you don't care how you feel. But I thought that... just now, dancing like that, you looked... _happy_." His face goes a light shade of pink, and he scratches at his neck with one finger. "And... I dunno why, but... I kind of... wanted to see that again, I guess." He exhales sharply, eyes falling to the floor, as he twists his mouth into a smile. "Maybe tomorrow, you'd want to just... enjoy yourself again. Maybe I was just imagining it, though..."

"Er- no, that is... I..." Kirumi starts and stops, gears grinding in her head. It was true, she insisted on shedding all trace of desire in her pursuit of becoming the perfect maid, and she has no intention of bending her principles, not now, nor ever. His suggestion that she was somehow hoping to abandon her usual discipline for a _party_ , of all things, is utterly preposterous. Insulting, even. But... if he's offering her a chance to pretend otherwise, just for one evening, can she truly decline? Will she ever get such a chance again? 

_I... suppose I could consider his invitation a request_ , she rationalizes. Perfect. She takes a deep breath as she prepares her response, delicately placing one hand on her chest. She must remain dispassionate, calm, and above all else, professional. 

_"I would absolutely love to,"_ she says instead before she can stop herself. _Oh, damn it._

Her outburst catches him off-guard. "You... you would?" 

"I-I mean... well... perhaps _love_ is too strong a word, but..." Kirumi starts wringing her hands as she desperately tries to walk back her confession. "If that is what you desire, then I am all too pleased to fulfill your request, since my duty as a maid requires-"

" _Kirumi_." He sees through her lie immediately. "You're allowed to be happy, you know?" There's a gentle reassurance lying in his words, and Kirumi realizes immediately she can't lie to him anymore.

"I... I see." She exhales sharply as the relief washes over her. "Then... that means..."

"Y-yeah. Tomorrow at six." He laughs innocently. "I guess it's a date!"

The sight of his laughter pulls on her heartstrings again, and she feels her blush fast returning. "I... suppose it is," she admits in a low near-whisper. She can't pretend anymore to be anything other than overjoyed. 

An idea suddenly flickers into her mind. "Although... If you _really_ want to dance again with me that badly, why wait until tomorrow?" she asks, her lips curling in a coy smile. "If you want to perfect that _last_ move of yours, you may need additional practice. In a little more... _deliberate_ fashion." She retrieves the fallen record, quickly scanning the label on its reverse. Her Russian is far from perfect, but she recognizes the title as [Shostakovich's Second Waltz](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WaKdPgkTZ7M). She places it back on the turntable and lowers the needle, returning swiftly to Shuichi's side.

She extends a hand to him as the music begins to play, her smile growing wider still. "Mister Saihara, may I have this dance?"

He doesn't respond, simply taking her hand and easing his arm around her waist. As they fall back into the rhythm, his eyes rise to meet hers, and the corners of his mouth gradually curl upward, until his smile is every bit as wide as her own.

They dance the day away to the rhythm of the waltz; three beats, two hearts, one whole.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, I was worried about Chapter 3 being too overwrought, but *this* one is definitely melodramatic. 
> 
> I realized partway through writing this that in Love Across the Universe, "let's dance" is a dialogue option for one of Kirumi's dates... but it's the worst possible choice and she doesn't enjoy it one bit. Oh well - as they say, "I pretend I do not see it." In another incredible act of oversight, I named the series _Tarantella_ , but they're clearly dancing a waltz here.
> 
> At least it's not the Flea Waltz.
> 
> Don't forget to comment!


	6. A Rose By Any Other Name

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Inspired by Kaito's antics around Maki, Shuichi attempts to find an equally cute pet name for Kirumi. She is not as... _cooperative_ as he would like.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, look, it's a short-and-sweet chapter that's actually short and sweet for once! Who woulda thought?
> 
> Now you might be thinking, "hey, wasn't there a different chapter here just a day ago?" And you'd be correct. Since it dwarfed all the other chapters in this work, and didn't really fit the pattern, I decided to migrate it to its own entry, [which you can find here.](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26489674/chapters/64554604) It's also been edited a little for easier reading, and had a few formatting changes here and there.
> 
> ...Unless you haven't actually read that chapter, in which case I suggest you go read it in its new home right now.

"So, have you seen much of Kaito or Maki lately?" Shuichi asks, leaning against the wall of the dining hall kitchen. 

Kirumi doesn't respond at first, laser-focused on preparing tonight's dinner. She works with flawless, machine-like precision, skillfully dicing a handful of spring onions to pieces before sweeping them off to one side with her knife. "No, not particularly. Why, do they have chores for me to complete?"

"No, no. It's nothing like that." Shuichi waves one hand dismissively. "It's just that... they're together all the time now. And I was just thinking about his nickname for her... _Maki Roll_. Weird, isn't it?"

"'Maki Roll', hm?" Kirumi frowns. "Perhaps an... _unorthodox_ choice of pet name, but I suppose I should expect nothing less from the likes of Kaito. _She_ certainly seems to respond well enough to it."

Shuichi makes an awkward half-smile. It certainly took some persuasion on Maki's part - at first she'd threaten to murder Kaito on the spot just for daring to step within ten feet of her. But in time she had an apparent change of heart, to the point where even the sight of Kaito makes her as red as the sailor uniform she wears every day. "That's one way of putting it, I suppose..."

"Indeed," she confirms nonchalantly in between chopping vegetables. "But why discuss this with me? I have little to do with it."

"Ah, well, just seeing that made me think." Shuichi takes a breath, his face ever-so-slightly reddening with embarrassment. "Do... do _you_ ever want to be called by, you know, a cute nickname or something?"

The sound of her knife on the cutting board stops. "...I beg your pardon?" She turns to face him, eyebrows raised in confusion. "My name is Kirumi Tojo. I am afraid I see no value in confusing people with additional aliases."

Shuichi forces himself to smile. That's Kirumi, ever the pragmatist. "No, that's... that's not the point. It's supposed to be something _unique_. Something that, well, only I get to call you. And besides..." He lets out a soft, uneasy laugh. "I think it could be cute!"

"Cute...?" Kirumi tilts her head to one side, thinking it over, and the hint of a blush appears on her cheeks. Eventually she lets out a soft sigh and turns around, focusing back on her cooking. "Well, I... I suppose I cannot stop you from trying."

The corner of Shuichi's mouth twists into a smile. That's as close to an approval as he'll get out of her. "Hmm, nicknames, huh..." he scratches his chin and stares off into space. This might require a little creativity on his part. He closes his eyes and concentrates. Yes... he can see it. The answer is there, floating barely out of his reach. The letters float around his mind, jumbled and disconnected. All he has to is just reach out to them, and- _and-_

"If this is that 'Hangman's Gambit' trick of yours again, please do not bother," Kirumi interrupts, shaking him out of his trance. "This is a conversation, not a _murder trial_."

He blinks. _She knew about that?_ "Oh, okay. S-sorry..." 

"No harm done," she reassures him before letting out a sigh. "I merely think that these class trials... are such _terrible_ occurrences. You would do well not to become too accustomed to them." 

"Y-yeah." Shuichi exhales slowly. "I guess you're right." Pushing new friends to murder each other. Making them argue for their lives under the ursine headmaster's watchful eye. And of course... the _punishment_. Whoever's pulling the strings of this game, they clearly have a twisted sense of humor. But he can't afford to get hung up on it _now_. If they can't escape from the pain of the killing game even at a time like this, then Monokuma will have well and truly won.

Shuichi crosses his arms and refocuses on the task at hand. "Well, for starters..." he thinks for a few seconds. "What do you think of... _'Kittyrumi?'"_

She gives him a wary glance over her shoulder, face locked into a cold grimace. "I wore cat ears _one time_ and you haven't let it go ever since, have you?"

Shuichi frowns. "Ah, okay, perhaps not, then." He crosses the suggestion off his mental list. "Um..." another idea comes to mind. "Since everyone calls you similar things anyway, how about, say, _'Kirumomm-'"_

Her knife hits the cutting board with a particularly loud chop. _"If you know what's good for you, you will **not** finish that sentence."_

"Ah!" Shuichi backs away from her, hands raised defensively. Though he can't see her face, he has no doubt she's making a murderous glare that would give Maki's a run for its money. He really, _really_ , should have known better than to poke fun at her number-one insecurity. "I... I'm sorry..."

"Don't be," she responds, her tone growing lighter. "I was merely teasing you." Shuichi quietly breathes a sigh of relief. That was a close one.

He bounces a few more ideas off of her, but they all meet the same dismal fate - mercilessly shot down with a cold, ruthless indifference. Shuichi's confidence falters as the rejections pile up, and before he knows it the flow of ideas runs dry.

His ammunition fully depleted, he sighs in defeat. He's exhausted all his options. Nothing seems to stick. This is hopeless. There's just no possibilities left.

...or are there?

**_...GOT IT!_ **

He stands up straight and snaps his fingers. _"That's **it!"**_ He smiles, suddenly very pleased with himself. "Let's keep things simple - how about just... _Rumi?"_ As soon as the name leaves his tongue he feels himself start to blush. It's a little embarrassing to say, but... _w_ _hat the heck? That's so cute...!_

Kirumi freezes. The rhythm of her chopping grinds to a halt. "I..." she mumbles in an uncharacteristically weak voice. "If that is the best you can come up with, I _suppose_ I do not mind..." 

Shuichi's smile grows wider. He's found her weak point.

"Alright then, I guess it's settled," he says nonchalantly. _"...Rumi."_

She whips around to face him and scowls, the pink on her face growing deeper by the second. "I take it back. I very much _do_ mind. Do _not_ call me that...!"

Shuichi tries to hold in a laugh. _This is... kind of fun!_ He knows he shouldn't, he knows it's embarrassing, but at the same time...

_Argument Armament: **START!**_

"Huh? What's the matter? Your face is all red..." He does his best not to smirk. "Do you have a fever or something, _Rumi?"_

"Nngh..." She claps a gloved hand over her nose and mouth and blushes furiously. "What are you doing...?"

"I'm not doing anything," he insists. "It's just your name, isn't it, _Rumi_? What's so bad about that?"

 _"Stop,"_ she whines, backing away from him. "Since when were you such a sadist? You've been spending too much time around Kokichi, haven't you?"

"I'm not like him, I'm telling the _truth!_ I-it's just that..." he hesitates. Should he _really_ say something so embarrassing? He powers through his own bashfulness and continues anyway. "I mean... I just think that someone as cute as you should have an equally cute name... _right, Rumi?"_

She can't even respond to that one. She makes a sound like a helpless squeak and squirms, her eyes falling to the floor. Shuichi's heart swells with excitement, seeing her so close to her limit. The end is near.

_Final Blow!_

He takes a deep breath and summons as much courage as he can muster. He gives her a warm, well-meaning smile, not betraying an ounce of malice. "Ah, maybe it's not cute enough? Then how about... Rumi... _-chan?"_

The last of her armor shatters. She drops the knife and buries her face in her hands, groaning unintelligibly. Even through her gloves her blush is far, far too obvious and Shuichi can practically see steam pouring off of her. She splutters helplessly, completely defeated. "I-... you-... _nrrgh..._ " She backs into the kitchen counter and sinks to the floor, overcome with embarrassment.

Shuichi finally bursts out in a wheezing laugh. What _is_ this? This is just _too cute!_ Making his way beside the flustered maid, he gingerly eases an arm around her shoulders and pulls her closer, offering her a sheepish, sympathetic smile as his laughter dies down.

She glares into the ground, pouting, as she collapses into the hug. "Just you wait," she fumes, "one of these days I _will_ find an equally embarrassing nickname for _you_ , and then you'll be sorry...!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dammit, Shuichi, stop using your deduction minigames in normal conversation. Fortunately, "Shuichi" isn't a name that gets easily made into cute nicknames, so I think he may be safe from Kirumi's revenge for a little while yet.
> 
> Don't forget to comment!


	7. Exonerating Evidence

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When a heinous but utterly petty crime rattles the Ultimate Academy, Monokuma forces the students into a class trial. When suspicion falls on Shuichi, it falls to Kirumi to clear his name once and for all - but by the time it's over, she probably wishes she hadn't.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one isn't as grim as the summary makes it sound! I promise!

_TRIAL 1: STICKY SWEET SABOTAGE_

_Monokuma calls a class trial, but there is no apparent victim. Investigating with even the very nature of the crime shrouded in mystery, can Shuichi uncover the deadly truth?_

> _Proceed to Class Trial?_
> 
> _> Yes_
> 
> _No_

_CLASS TRIAL: **IN SESSION!**_

"Ahem! Let's begin with a simple explanation of the class trial! During the trial, you'll present your arguments for who the culprit is, and vote for 'whodunnit'. Vote correctly, and only the blackened will be punished. But if you pick the wrong person..." Monokuma trails off mid-sentence, before growling loudly and slumping over in his seat. "Eh, screw it, you know the rest already. Now, let's hurry up and _get this show on the road!"_

Shuichi uneasily raises a hand. "Okay, but first... I have a question." He frowns and takes a breath. "You didn't even tell us during the investigation... what exactly is this class trial even _for?_ All of us are still alive." He gestures around the room - sixteen faces, including his own, all very much unharmed.

"What's it _for? What's it **for!?"**_ Monokuma blanches at the question, trembling with fury. "This trial is to find out just _which one_ of you spoiled, stuck-up, ankle-biting little _brats_ broke into my private room and _stole! My! **Honey pot!"**_

"Wait, _honey pot?"_ Kaede asks, incredulous. "Aren't you, like, a robot? Can you even eat?"

Keebo balls his hands into fists and hisses loudly. "Kaede, enough with your robophobic comments! I have _had_ it with this blatant, ceaseless discrimination!"

Kaede squawks and raises both hands apologetically. "O-okay, I'm sorry! But... but you said you only liked Japanese food for how it looked, right? You _can't_ eat, can you?"

"That's completely ridiculous and you know-" Keebo pauses and furrows his mechanical brow, face contorting into a pained grimace. "That... is true..."

Rantaro shifts his balance and glances back at the ursine headmaster. "Okay, so getting back on topic, what'll happen if we do find the culprit? Are they gonna be punished like... like they _usually_ are?"

"Of _course!_ I'll flay 'em alive! I'll burn 'em to a crisp! I'll... _I'll..."_ Monokuma runs out of steam and he sinks back into his chair, visibly depressed. "Okay, now that I think about it, maybe that's a little over the top."

Kaito gags. "Yeah, you think!?" 

The robot bear sighs, glumly staring into the ground. "Eh, I'll probably just make 'em, like... scrub all the floors, I guess..." 

Monophanie gasps in dismay at her father's gloomy demeanor. "Daddy's lost all his drive again! Like an author who gives up writing his masterpiece and settles for making short oneshots instead..."

Kirumi perks up at the mention of the punishment. "Cleaning, hm?" She puts a hand to her chest and stands up straight. "In that case, I suppose I have no choice. I was the one who-"

"Oh, and reaching the wrong verdict will still result in your _deaths,_ so _do_ try to take this one seriously!" 

Kirumi deflates. "...Ah." 

Monokuma raises a paw. "Well, if no one else has anything _stupid_ to say, let's begin!"

The court sinks into an awkward silence and the jurors glance uneasily at each other. How can they possibly begin? They barely even know what the crime was!

Kokichi scoffs. "Since it seems like everyone else left their brains at home today, I guess I'll lead us off. So! This morning we woke up to a pile of rubble in the hallway. So something obviously happened between yesterday and today!"

Tsumugi raises a finger. "Um, but most of us weren't exactly patrolling the halls yesterday. Couldn't the break-in have taken place then?"

Shuchi shakes his head. "No, the theft could not have occurred earlier in the day. At the very least, Kaito and I went through the hallways yesterday afternoon, and everything seemed normal."

"Then couldn't it have taken place some time in the evening?"

"Sorry, but no. The passageway leading to Monokuma's secret room leads right past the dining hall. And we know that people were in there up until nighttime, right?"

"That is correct," Kirumi affirms. "I was serving evening high tea until then... I believe Gonta, Korekiyo, and Kokichi were in attendance." She pauses briefly before her eyes suddenly widen. "But let me assure you, the tea was beyond a doubt decaffeinated. I would _never_ be so irresponsible as to serve caffeinated beverages just before bedtime. It would be _dreadful_ for one's sleep schedule."

Shuichi twists his mouth into an awkward smile. "Uh... th-thanks, Kirumi." He turns to the three aforementioned guests. "And did any of you hear anything unusual during that time?"

Gonta hums softly and looks off to one side, racking his brain. "No. Gonta not hear anything. And Gonta have good ears, too, so Gonta definitely not miss it."

"Indeed," Kiyo murmurs. "I believe we would have noticed if someone were demolishing a door during that time."

"Wait wait wait wait _wait_ ," Kokichi interrupts. "Why are you so sure there would've been a ton of noise? Couldn't they just have taken the door off its hinges with, like, a screwdriver or something?"

Shuichi tilts his head to one side. "Possibly... if that were the method the culprit used. Remember what we found at the scene of the crime - the door was knocked down with considerable force - possibly using a battering ram, or maybe an explosion. One way or another, the sound of the door falling alone would've been plenty to alert the people in the dining hall."

"No, you're wrong!" Himiko interrupts, pouting. "There's another way to break down the door! Maybe... maybe it was _maaagic!_ "

Shuichi stares at her blankly. "Uh, no. That's... not it."

Gonta folds his arms and frowns. "So Gonta think... culprit probably not break in during daytime."

"Ohhh, I see now!" Angie hums cheerfully. "So that means... the culprit must have struck during the night!"

"Indeed," Kirumi concurs. "So in other words, we must examine everyone's alibis from after nighttime began." 

Tsumugi frowns. "Well, most of us were attending a Student Council meeting in Angie's lab. I believe the topic was..." She pauses to remember. "Oh! That's right, it was, 'points rewards for new recruitment!'"

"Yep, yep!" Angie chirps. "Joining worship of Atua is not enough to save your soul! You must spread the gospel and find new converts! The points you earn towards saving your soul are proportional to the number you recruit!" She lets out an innocent giggle and her eyes shine with excitement. "And of course, Atua's oracles receive a flat percentage of every payout..."

Shuichi forces himself to smile. _Is your religion just an elaborate pyramid scheme?_ He clears his throat and focuses back on the case. "O-okay. And how long did this meeting last?"

"Uh, I... I dunno, maybe an hour?" Tenko demurs, scratching at her neck with one hand. "And then we all went to the A/V room in the basement together."

"And then we watched movies about the glory of Atua until dawn!" Angie claps her hands and beams with delight. "People are much more receptive to His word when they're too tired to resist!"

Kaito gapes at the artist in dismay. "You're _brainwashing_ them!?"

"So in other words, no one in the Council had a chance to break in." Ryoma sighs loudly and closes his eyes, twirling his candy cigarette about his fingers. "Well, that doesn't narrow it down a whole lot."

"No, it's okay!" Kaede proudly declares, pumping both fists. "Most of us have alibis, too! I'm sure of it!"

Kokichi smirks. "Well, if you're so certain of that, let's start with yours."

Kaede beams warmly. "No problem! So, around the start of nighttime, I was with Rantaro in the dorm building. He was offering to paint my nails, too!" The smile vanishes from her face. "Oh, and Miu was there too, I guess..."

Miu blanches at the dismissive mention of her name. "Hey! Don't treat me like some fucking third wheel, Kaeidiot!"

Kaede sighs. "Okay, sorry. Anyway, she made us come to her research lab some time around eleven... to show us her invention." She grimaces and looks off to one side. "A... nail-painting machine..."

"Hell yeah I did!" Miu puffs up with pride. "You think painting nails is too hard for this gorgeous bombshell girl genius? _Please!_ Anything Ran- _tard_ -o can do, a machine can do a million times better!"

"Your _invention_ tried to stab me," Rantaro coldly mutters under his breath.

"Whatever! Extra feature!"

"That's- that's not the point!" Kaede says quickly. "The point is, the three of us can all vouch for each other. After that, we all went back to the dorms. I didn't hear anyone go in or out of the building after that."

Rantaro sighs. "Yeah. Me neither."

Angie counts on her fingers. "So that leaves... Kirumi, Kaito, Maki, Kokichi, Ryoma... and Shuichi." 

"So one of _them's_ obviously gotta be the culprit!" Miu declares, thrusting a finger in the air, before she sets her sights on the former Tennis Pro. "Hey, _shortstop!_ Explain yourself! You've done crimes and shit before, haven't you!?"

 _"Miu!"_ Kaito snaps at her. "Knock that off!"

"Hmph. Don't worry. I'm used to it by now," Ryoma drawls. He crosses his arms and chews on his cigarette. "Kaito dragged me out of my dorms for 'training' some time around ten-thirty. Maki was there, too." He nods in the assassin's direction. "Couldn't have gone on for more than a couple of hours, by my reckoning. We went back to the dorms soon as it was over."

Kaito grins. "That's right. Me and Maki Roll can vouch for him, so that means the three of us are all in the clear!" 

_"Don't_ call me Maki Roll," Maki hisses under her breath.

"Okay, but..." Tenko's eyes go wide and she snaps into a fighting stance. "W-wait, doesn't Shuichi usually go to training, too? What happened to him!?"

"I'm sure he just...!" Kaito pauses and scratches at his goatee. "Huh, yeah, that _is_ unusual..."

Ryoma shrugs. "Well, I tried ringing his doorbell, but didn't get an answer. Maybe he was just asleep, or maybe he wasn't home..." His eyes suddenly narrow and he strokes his chin with intrigue. "Oh, I get it now..."

"Oooh, now we're getting somewhere!" Kokichi snickers menacingly and his eyes slowly swivel towards the detective. "Well, Shuichi? Had somewhere important to be?"

"Well... no, I didn't." Shuichi flatly denies the charge. "I was just... _busy_ , that's all."

" _Busy?_ " Kokichi quirks an eyebrow in disbelief. "Boy, that's awful convenient, isn't it?" A lilting edge permeates his words, somehow both childish and domineering.

"H-hey!" Kaede says indignantly, scowling at the evil genius. "Don't be like that! Shuichi would never do something like this!"

"Kaede is correct," Kirumi concurs flatly. "There is no reason to suspect him purely for being asleep during the time of the crime. That would also place myself under suspicion, would it not?"

"Yeah, it would... if that were the _only_ thing." Kokichi puts a finger to his mouth and smirks knowingly. "Isn't that right, _Maki?_ "

"Maki...?" Shuichi turns to the assassin, voice tinged with confusion.

She gives a barely noticeable nod. "Remember the scene of the break-in? Like you said, someone tried to pick the lock, and resorted to breaking in by force when that failed. We found fragments of something scattered around the area when we investigated - probably from something exploding." Her voice snakes out in a low murmur, scant above a whisper. "When I went back to check my lab, I found that a hand grenade had gone missing from the arsenal. And there's no chance I miscounted, so don't bother trying to tell me that."

Shuichi narrows his eyes. "So... how does this implicate me, exactly? I'm not seeing the connection."

"If you don't know, then just _keep your damn mouth shut,_ " Maki snaps.

"But... but that could have been _anyone!_ " Kaede insists, pointing a trembling finger in Maki's direction.

" _Could it?"_ she retorts sharply. "Most of you only found out about my lab because I let you in for the investigation. Not just _anyone_ would've known about that before the crime took place." She narrows her eyes and glares around the room. "The only ones apart from me who should've known are the idiots who forced their way into my lab the other day to make me come to breakfast. The only possibilities... are Kaito, and _Shuichi._ "

"That's..." Kaede's voice wavers as her confident aura slips.

Kirumi steps in to take over from the pianist. "You cannot be certain from something as spurious as that. Surely this is nothing but an unfortunate co-"

Kokichi scoffs. "Let me guess, it's _just a coincidence._ Shuichi, the model citizen straight-A student, perfectly punctual and by-the-book, just so _happens_ to go AWOL during the exact window of time when the break-in occurred. Shuichi, who just so _happens_ to be the only one without an alibi who knew about the weapon. Yeah, sure, it's just a coincidence. But coincidences add up pretty damn quick!"

Tsumugi sniffs quietly. "You know, Kokichi... might have a point..."

Kirumi purses her lips in disapproval. "This line of thinking is utterly prepostero-"

"Everyone! Please be quiet! _Atua is speaking!_ " Angie claps her hands in prayer and bows her head. Barely a second later she springs back to life, both hands waving in the air. "Nyahaha! We've solved it! Shuichi is one hundred percent the culprit!"

"Grah, that's a load of bull and you know it!" Kaito scoffs dismissively and stares down his nose at the supreme leader. "I believe in Shuichi, and the rest of you should too! I bet you're only accusing him to draw suspicion away from yourself, aren't you?"

Kokichi sighs dramatically and rolls his eyes. "Again with that 'belief' crap? Get with the program, Kaito. This is a game of _suspicion_. People you trust will always betray you in the end. And besides- I don't hear _you_ refuting Maki's point about the grenade. Even you oughta understand something as simple as that."

"Well, maybe that's true, but-" Kaito pauses and scratches his head, before his face scrunches up into a scowl and he smacks a fist into his waiting palm. "Wait, whaddya mean, _even me!?"_

"Well, Shuichi?" Tsumugi asks, tilting her head to one side. "I... I want to believe you, but Kokichi's right... I'm plainly just not sure I can trust you. Can you really prove you didn't do it?"

Shuichi stiffens. "Prove I _didn't...?"_ He wants to argue with her, insist that that's not how burden of proof works, and that without any real evidence pointing the finger his way there's no reason to believe him guilty. But he knows that getting defensive would only tighten the noose around his neck... and everyone else's too, save for the true blackened lurking amongst their ranks.

He takes a deep breath. _I don't have a choice... I have to clear my name! I can't give up now! There's got to be something I can use to convince them... there **has** to be!_

_Non-stop Debate: **START!**_

Maki glares in the detective's direction with piercing, merciless eyes. "The culprit **tried to pick the lock** to Monokuma's room, and when that failed, they settled for blowing the door off its hinges. I believe they used a hand grenade from my lab."

Kaito grits his teeth. "And me, Maki Roll, and Shuichi are the **only ones who would've known** where to find it..."

Angie hums in approval. "So that means... **Shuichi is the culprit!"**

Kirumi shakes her head. "That is **hardly definitive evidence**. Can you really be so certain, knowing as little as we do?"

Tenko huffs loudly. "Well, I _knew_ it had to be **one of the degenerates!** "

Himiko sighs. "Nyeh, good enough. Let's just go with that."

 _"Good enough!?"_ Shuichi almost spits out the words. "Our lives are on the line here!"

"It's all the evidence we need!" Kokichi declares proudly, spreading his arms wide. " _You_ knew about the explosives in Maki's lab! _You_ don't have an alibi! And since **you could have done it at any time** in the night, you thought no one else would have one either!"

"No, that's..." Shuichi's objection sticks in his throat and he falters. It's not true! He knows he didn't do it! But he has only a single piece of evidence to save his own skin. Can he really rely on something like... _that?_ There has to be another way, there has to be someone who can- 

_"You are incorrect!"_

**_COUNTER!_ **

All eyes fall on the source of the outburst. The Ultimate Maid stands to attention, her one exposed eye glinting with dangerous resolve.

Kaito blinks, surprised. "Huh...? Kirumi? What are you-"

"You are suspicious of him due to his apparent lack of an alibi, yes?" She folds her hands and takes a deep breath. "In that case, allow me to be of assistance."

Shuichi's voice rises with curiosity. "Kirumi...?"

"I just so happened to see Shuichi at his dorm room when nighttime began, alone and very much unarmed. There was absolutely nothing unusual about his behavior or mannerisms - certainly not the actions of one who had just committed a serious crime." She turns to one side and raises a finger, her tone growing stern and didactic. "I am certain that he can vouch for my alibi as well. And may I just remind you that, as there can only be one blackened in any class trial, there is absolutely _no_ incentive for me to lie in this matter. I give you my word, on my honor as a maid." 

"H-hold on," Tenko interrupts, her voice shaky and uneven. "Isn't that a little... _suspicious?_ You both had alibis ready all along, and _neither_ of you thought to tell us?"

"No, no!" Angie denies, raising both her hands. "Kirumi is always so good to us... surely we can trust her to tell the truth? Right? _Right?"_ She quickly bobs from one side to the other, eyes wide with anticipation.

Subdued voices of agreement echo all around. Kirumi smiles at the show of solidarity. "So, you see? There should be no question whatsoever that Shuichi is not the culpri-"

 _"Hold on just a sec!"_ Kokichi cuts in, wagging a warning finger in her direction. "All we know is that the break-in happened at nighttime. That doesn't narrow it down a whole lot, y'know. So he easily could've slipped away after your meeting, then gone on to steal the honey!" Hushed whispers and murmurs sound throughout the court. He definitely has a point.

The corner of Kirumi's mouth gently curls upwards. "I see. Then I simply need to assure you that his alibi is valid for the entire night, yes?"

Shuichi sweats nervously. "Um, Kirumi, you really don't need to-"

Kirumi nods in his direction, still wearing her impeccable Mona Lisa smile. "Do not worry, Shuichi. I will clear your name beyond all reasonable doubt." She turns back to face the jury. "You see, it does not matter when last night the crime occurred-"

_"Kirumi..."_

"-since you assume that my testimony is only valid for when I first met him. However, you are mistaken - at no point before this morning did he ever escape my sight. Therefore-"

**_"Kirumi!"_ **

"-there is _absolutely no chance_ that he was able to break in during the relevant period of time, because _I was with him the entire night_." She beams at the others, clearly very pleased with herself. "Well, I believe the matter is settled."

The courtroom sinks into an agonizing awkward silence. Shuichi gags loudly and goes a dangerous shade of red. Kaede stares at him in horror, the color draining from her face. "... _what..?"_

 _"Kirumi!"_ Kaito growls and stomps a foot on the floor, angrily jabbing a finger in the maid's direction. "Do you even know what the hell you're saying!?"

"I... beg your pardon?" Kirumi raises her eyebrows in confusion. "I fail to see what is so concerning, Kaito. I merely said I was with Shuichi in the dorms for the entire..." her voice trails off mid-sentence and her eyes widen in realization. _"...Ah."_

The room explodes in a burst of noise.

_"Y-you filthy, perverted, disgusting... **male!** "_ Tenko screeches at the top of her lungs. She thusts a hand towards the helpless detective, eyes burning with overflowing rage. "You've corrupted Kirumi with your degenerate ways! _Have you no shame at all!?"_

"Now hold on!" Shuichi lifts a finger in protest, covering his beet-red face with his free hand. "It's not... it wasn't _like_ that!"

"It wasn't...?" Tsumugi's face lights up and she claps her hands together. "Oh, so you _admit_ that something happened between you! Ah, a nighttime rendezvous between secret lovers! It's like in one of my _shoujo_ manga!"

Shuichi raises both hands defensively and splutters. "A-ah, um, th-that's, uh..."

 _"Ha-ha!_ I fuckin' knew it! Pooichi's the kinda guy who takes the stairs to adulthood three steps at a time!" Miu's mouth twists into a crooked grin and she smirks viciously in Shuichi's direction. "I bet she's super into master-servant roleplay, right? All like, _Master Shuichi, oh, Master Shuichi...!"_

Kirumi blinks. "H-how did y-" she cuts herself short and her face flushes a bright pink. "I mean - _that is none of your business!"_

"Ah, a clandestine affair between a detective and his loyal maid... such sordid tales of forbidden love have been a fascination of the arts for centuries." Kiyo cackles menacingly, shivering with delight. "How beautiful it is to witness such a narrative firsthand..."

Kirumi grips tighter onto the podium and forces her eyes shut, trying desperately to retain her dignity. "I-If we could _please_ refocus on the matter at hand-"

"My, how scandalous!" Angie gasps loudly and places both hands on her cheeks, her mouth falling open in a perfect _O_. "You know, except when His precious devotees are involved, Atua does not like it when people so freely engage in premarital s-"

Shuichi gags again and his hands fly to his head. _"T-the trial!"_ He forces out the words, his voice wavering and cracking with every syllable. "Can we _please_ keep talking about the _trial!?"_ His words are drowned out by an endless wave of chatter, voices of excitement and disbelief and bemusement crashing off each other and echoing around the room in a terrible cacophonous din. 

Kirumi purses her lips, staring straight into the ground. "I... I apologize, Shuichi..." she mumbles, too embarrased to even meet his eyes. "I am so, _so,_ sorry..."

Shuichi buries his face in his hands, groaning loudly. Every taunt and jibe thrown his way feels like a punch to the gut, and he can feel his influence draining away by the second. Everyone's staring at him, they must think he's a fraud... no one will listen to him now! This is the worst! This is a _disaster!_ He wishes he could hide behind his brim like he so frequently used to. Why, why, _why_ didn't he think to bring his hat!?

The verbal shooting gallery continues as the court descends into chaos. From above the fray Monodam peers down through unmoving eyes, stifling a robotic laugh. "IT-LOOKS-LIKE-EVERYONE-IS-FINALLY-STARTING-TO-GET-ALONG."

Monophanie shakes nervously and turns to her monochrome father. "Daddy, they're going _way_ off script! They're not even discussing the theft!"

"Oh, for the love of...!" Monokuma growls and bangs his gavel on his armrest. "So this low-rent rom-com _junk_ is what people tune in to see, is it!? Dammit, I _knew_ I should've cancelled the killing game for a dating show like we planned!"

"Was that ever the plan?" Monotaro scratches his head. "I dunno, I honestly can't remember..."

Monokuma leaps to his feet, red in the face. "That's _it!_ Starting tomorrow, this is an episodic romance show! We'll wipe their memories, start over, and get back to the killing later! Sheesh, what a _joke!"_

Monosuke cackles with glee, leafing through a stack of thousand-yen notes. "Damn, Pops! You'll make us all _rich!_ Now that's what _I_ call the art of the deal!"

The discussion long since derailed, Monokuma lets out a disgusted sigh and claps the gavel once more. 

_CLASS TRIAL: **INTERMISSION!**_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Poor Kaede. But after the second chapter of this fic I think we can call it even.


	8. Lost Loves

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kirumi wants to admit her feelings for Shuichi, but can't until the mysterious problem gnawing at his heart is solved. For less-than-obvious reasons, Monokuma fortunately seems eager to help, offering a Key of Love with which to peer into Shuichi's soul and confront the issue head-on. What will Kirumi find buried within his innermost fantasy?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This may seem familiar to those who've read my first-ever fic. At first, anyway...

The time is ten-thirty in the evening at the Ultimate Academy, and all is well.

Kirumi Tojo stands by the countertop in the confines of her dorm room, taking a freshly made pot of chamomile tea with both hands and delicately pouring herself a cup. Gently setting it down atop an elegant silver tray, she nods with satisfaction at the assembled goods. A light snack before bed, with some herbal tea on the side. How very civilized. She takes the tray in both hands and makes her way towards her bed, softly humming the tune of an old lullaby.

An obnoxious cartoon _boing_ sounds out from above her, and before she can react a flash of black and white drops down from the ceiling, clumsily falling to the floor with an ear-splitting crash. " _Rise and shine, ursine!_ Wait, wrong catchphrase..."

The tray slips from Kirumi's grasp and crashes noisily to the floor. _"You."_

"Me!" Monokuma titters loudly at his unfunny response. "Goooood evening! Is now a good time?"

"No, it is _not,"_ Kirumi snaps, staring with disgust at the ruined remains of her tea. "When is it ever a good time to speak with _you?_ "

"Yeesh, there's that 'hospitality' you maids are so famous for..." Monokuma grumbles and stares gloomily at the floor. "Anyway!" He perks up and flashes her a toothy half-grin. "I'm just here to check in on how your killing school semester's going on!"

"It would be going much better were it not for all the _killing_ ," Kirumi says bluntly. "How many murders has it been now? How many _punishments?_ How many more need to _die_ before you'll be satisfied?"

Monokuma shrugs and starts counting on his paws. "Eh, usually another four or five. Depends, I guess. But still!" He thrusts a claw in her direction and tuts disapprovingly. "It's been weeks, you know! _Weeks!_ You've had so many opportunities to kill and get away with it, and you're still stuck here playing nursing-maid to those useless brats! Seriously, you'd be so good at it, too!"

Kirumi tries not to scowl, locking her face into a pained grimace instead. "If you came here merely to irritate me, you needn't bother any longer. I have _no_ interest in _anything_ you might care to tell me."

The headmaster doesn't seem to agree. "Oh, really? Maybe you'll change your tune once you learn about... _this!"_ From behind his back he produces a large key, one end artfully twisted into the shape of a heart, a bright red gemstone twinkling in its center. "Aha, interested, are you? It's the super-special Key of Love!"

"The what?"

"Oh? A bit slow on the uptake, are we?" He flashes a smug grin. "Everyone _else_ found out about these a _long_ time ago, but since you never seem to stick your head in that casino I worked _so hard_ to build, I guess it's no surprise you were left out of the loop. But, today I'm making you a special offer! This beauty can be yours for just the low, low, price of one hundred thousand Casino coins!" He beams proudly in her direction. "So, ready to open your heart and empty your wallet?"

Kirumi frowns. "No sale."

"Ha! I knew you'd..." Monokuma pauses. "Wait, **_what!?"_**

"You expect me to spend every last cent I own on an undoubtedly rigged casino, all for the chance to squander my winnings on some pointless toy?" Kirumi clicks her tongue in disapproval. "No, thank you. I politely decline."

Monokuma growls. "Whaddya mean, _no!?_ Oh, come on! You're not interested just because I charge exorbitant prices for prize items of unknown or dubious value, all locked behind a random chance-based currency that's a pain in the ass to obtain!? What is it with kids these days, and their stubborn sense of entitlement!?"

"'Entitled,' is it? I have been called worse before," Kirumi replies nonchalantly. "Now if you don't mind, I would like you to leave. I have better things to do on an evening than haggle with you over some useless key-"

"Hey, _hey!"_ Monokuma shouts indignantly. "Watch your language! It's not just _any_ key! It's the key to the school _love hotel!"_

An awkward silence fills the room. Kirumi gives him a blank stare. _"What."_

Monokuma raises his paws. "Hey, don't look at me like that! It's not what you think! It's not as if we'd just let anyone waltz into the building, strip down, and start going at it like animals! We'd never hear the end of it from the ratings board!"

"Ratings bo-" Kirumi gives up with a loud sigh. "I do not have time for your nonsense, Mister Monokuma. Please inform me what this key is really for, or kindly get out of my sight."

"Wow, tough crowd..." Monokuma spreads his arms wide with a dramatic flourish. "This here is the wonderful, miraculous Key of Love! It lets you take a romantic trip to the Land of Nod! To the scenes of your wildest dreams! To your classmates' _innermost fantasies!_ Go ahead, ask me how it works!"

Kirumi raises an eyebrow. "To their dreams? Do you expect me to believe something so ridicul-"

"It's simple!" Monokuma ignores her and continues his monologue. "All you have to do is just go to sleep with one of these bad boys at the ready, and you and one other student will be dropped straight into their personal fantasy! You'll be right there in the shoes of their ideal, and before you know it they'll be swooning all over you, no matter how _charmless_ and _dull_ you might otherwise be!"

Kirumi opens her mouth to retort at the unsubtle dig, but she soon thinks better of it. Best just to let him finish his little sales pitch and disappear.

"It's like a dream, shared for just the two of you," he continues giddily. "Act out the role and win their heart, and you'll both feel better than ever before! But if you break character, well, let's just say someone's not gonna sleep well tonight!" Kirumi tries to question him, to ask just what he means, but he ignores her again and pushes on. "The best part? If all goes well, they won't even remember you were there! Like one-night-stands and middle-school memories, some things are best left forgotten!" He stands proudly to attention, looking as tall as he can despite his puny stature. "Well? Whaddya say? Ready to... start _getting around?"_

Kirumi folds her arms, completely unimpressed. "That is quite the tall tale, Mister Monokuma. Do I have any reason to believe that any of it is true?"

"It's _true_ ," he insists, waving his paws about, "I _never_ lie about Academy amenities!"

"I do not trust you," she says flatly. "This is another one of your motives, isn't it? You are undoubtedly trying to lure me into a trap."

He puts a paw to his mouth and stifles a giggle. "Maybe, maybe not. No one can really say for sure. But who knows what you'll get to see in there? Maybe you'll just hear ol' spiky-head ramble about space. Maybe you'll see what nasty, _disgusting_ kinks that circus freak in the mask is into. Or maybe... you'll get to look into the heart of that _detective_ you have such an obvious crush on..."

Kirumi's face stiffens despite her best efforts to stay still. _How did he...?_

The question all but answers itself. Ever since the aftermath of their deadly first class trial, when she so dutifully pledged herself his much-needed support, she and Shuichi have been practically inseparable. He spends so much time in her company these days that the two of them are practically one now, each seldom seen without the other in tow. She's become not just his maid, but a steadfast companion, and few would blame anyone for thinking they were more than that. The way she cares so faithfully for him, the way he lifts her spirits like no one else can... anyone would think they were the perfect couple.

If only it were that simple.

Somehow, somewhere along the way, she found herself falling for him. She thought it ridiculous at first. She's the Ultimate Maid. She _has_ no feelings, no desire to speak of. The accusation, the _idea_ that someone like her could feel something like that was beyond preposterous. But even still, the way her face heats up when he beams at her, the way her heart fluttered whenever he took her hand in his and thanked her for her hard work... they all made it impossible to deny.

She stubbornly refused to admit it, refused to _show_ it, and each time the thought crossed her mind she just threw herself into her work and pushed the mutinous feeling away, burying her heart under the solemn weight of her duty. Only recently has she come to terms with her own emotions, at last winning the longest, hardest battle against herself. And now... only the final obstacle remains. She knows she should tell him how she feels. One of these days, she has to come clean. But she _can't_. Not until she solves the problem so stubbornly plaguing his heart.

She knows something is bothering him. It _has_ to be. Even when surrounded by friends, or even when it's just the two of them, she can sense a lingering hesitation in his every word and action, a subtle melancholy lurking behind his bright, warm smile and his easy-going laughter. Though analyzing the feelings of others is most definitely _not_ her area of expertise, even she can tell something is amiss. As much as she wants to, as much as she feels she _has_ to, she _can't_ make her feelings known, she _mustn't_... not until that weight on his shoulders is finally lifted. No matter how painful it may be, no matter how much her heart aches, until her duty as a maid is fulfilled her feelings must go unanswered. That, at least, is the discipline that being the Ultimate Maid demands.

But if what Monokuma says is true... then she could finally decipher what it is that Shuichi so meticulously locks away. She could finally solve the question that gnaws at his heart. She could finally be the one to...

She pushes the thought away immediately. No, no, _no._ She mustn't give in to Monokuma's tricks.

Unfortunately, he picks up on her intrigue immediately. His asymmetric grin grows ever so slightly wider, and he snickers quietly. "Oh? Struck a nerve, did I?" He leans to one side and sneers up at her. "Something I say get your blood pumping?"

Kirumi fights the urge to twitch. "Absolutely not," she insists, crossing her arms. "I have no interest in your vulgar toys."

The bear doesn't buy it for a minute. "Well, _gee_ , for being so stoic, you sure are one _crummy_ liar. Y'know, in any other school it'd be against the rules to lie to your headmaster like that. But you know what? I'm feelin' extra generous today!" Without warning he suddenly tosses the key, and it shimmers in the dim dormitory lights as it twirls through the air towards her.

With a quick machine-like reflex she catches it in one hand, and stares over its golden heart-shaped form with a mixture of curiosity and disgust. "...What _is_ this? What are you up to?"

"'Up to?' Come now, should you really be so suspicious of your good ol' pal Monokuma?" He puts both paws on his stomach and gives her a warm grin. "You always work so hard to keep my precious school clean, and you're just so handy at keeping those brats out of trouble... so I'm giving you this one on the house! Think of it as payment, for services rendered!"

"I am not giving any 'services' to you," she snaps. "You are _not_ my master."

Monokuma winces. "Ouch, what a heartbreaker... well, too late to give it back now! No refunds, no returns! So just go ahead, take it for a spin, and if you like what you see? You know where to find me! _See ya later!"_

Before she can retort he bounces off the floor with a loud _sproing_ and vanishes, disappearing into thin air in the blink of an eye.

Now alone in the eerily quiet dorm room, she glances down at the key resting in the palm of her hand. It looks cheap and gaudy, like a plastic toy, but somehow carries a heavy weight to it, as if truly made of solid gold. Her common sense screams at her to just throw it away, to ignore it, to do anything other than fall for such an obvious trap.

But it could be her only chance to cure whatever is clouding Shuichi's mind.

"Well... just once wouldn't hurt, I suppose," she mutters quietly. She makes her way to her bed and delicately places the key atop her pillow before heading off to the washroom. Not long after she returns, her puffy maid's uniform traded for her loose-fitting silk nightgown, and quietly slips under the covers, feebly tugging the sheets over her body.

She stares off into the darkness, clutching at the key with one hand. _This is **so** stupid,_ a voice in the back of her head grumbles. But soon her eyelids grow heavy and her drowsiness overtakes her, and she slips quietly into a deep and peaceful sleep.

~+~

Kirumi awakens in a scene from a horrible fever dream.

She finds herself sitting on the edge of an enormous bed, surrounded by a room equal parts hotel room, carousel, and Las Vegas Strip, all sorts of horrible mismatched decorations mashed together and coated in garish neon lights. Bright red-and-pink heart-shaped decor covers every surface, lit up with enough blinking lights to trigger seizures in healthy men, and as one last bit of ridiculousness a black-and-white toy horse gallops around the bed, one jagged red eye flashing in a pathetic imitation of the ursine headmaster.

Kirumi gawks like an idiot at the ridiculous scene, struggling to find the words. "Th-this... this is..."

_...absolutely disgusting._

With a stiff and sudden motion she rises to her feet, indignantly huffing as her face flushes pink. Whose "fantasy" is this supposed to be? She curses herself for not having asked how her "partner" would be chosen. Why did she ever believe that Monokuma would let her see into Shuichi's heart that easily? Of course it was some stupid trick, just a ploy to get her hopes up. This is probably _Miu's_ fantasy, of all people. And now she'll be stuck entertaining that _useless_ nymphomaniac and her undoubtedly repugnant desires, all because she just had to go and fall for Monokuma's stupid-

"Kirumi?"

A soft masculine voice calls out from behind her and she freezes in place. She slowly turns around, unsure what to expect, and then...

Somehow, as if by miracle, Shuichi Saihara is there, standing before her in the center of the room. Kirumi's eyes go wide and she stares at him in disbelief. There's no doubt - she would never mistake that face, that unruly strand of hair sticking up from his head, even that same black uniform he wears every day. 

Her heart skips a beat. "...Sh-Shuichi?" She stammers helplessly as she tries to find the words. She _can't_ let this chance go to waste. Not now. She clears her throat and desperately tries to maintain her poise. "M-my apologies. Where are my manners? As always, i-it is a pleasure to be..." The words die on her lips and her heart sinks into her stomach as realization sets in.

She's with Shuichi in a _love hotel._

She goes pale in the face and gags, her usual composure deserting her in an instant. "Er- I- Sh-Shuichi, I- this isn't... this isn't what it... I'm not-"

"It's you..."

Kirumi pauses. "I... sorry?"

Shuichi stares at her, his eyes wide with shock, and takes a single halting step towards her. Several times he starts and stops, his mouth moving but no sound coming forth. "It's... _really you..."_ His eyes fall to the floor and he makes a barely audible sound, a quiet, pitiful sniffle, before slowly beginning to shake. Her protective instinct kicking in, Kirumi rushes to his side and reaches out to grab his shoulders, but before she can touch him he suddenly throws his arms around her and buries his head in her shoulder. A muffled sob escapes from his throat as his tremors grow stronger.

"Wh-!" Kirumi tenses at the contact, failing to stop herself from making a high-pitched squeak. "Sh-Shuichi!?" 

"I... I'm sorry, but..." he mumbles, his voice barely audible. "It's just... can I stay like this a little longer?"

Kirumi begins to protest, but the pitiful sight stabs through her heart and her resistance falters. "I..." She lets out a heartbroken sigh and pulls him closer, cradling him in her arms. "...Of course. Take all the time you need..."

Wordlessly he grips tighter onto her, crying quietly into her embrace as Kirumi reassuringly pats one hand on his back. "There, there," she murmurs softly. "It's okay. I'm here..." He doesn't respond, clutching tighter still at her shirt, his sobs and sniffles gradually dying down to nothing.

After what feels like an eternity of them, Shuichi's weak and feeble voice finally breaks the silence. "I'm... sorry you had to see that..." He raises his head and wipes his tears with the back of his sleeve. "It's just... it's been so _long..."_

The sight tugs at Kirumi's heartstrings and she struggles to respond. "Shuichi..."

"It's been so long since I could see you like this... Every single day, I wished you were back, but... I honestly thought I'd never get to see you again," he whispers, each word pained and anguished. "I waited for so _long..."_

Kirumi listens in stunned silence - just what happened in this fantasy of his? Did she... _leave him?_ Why would he fantasize about something like _that?_

He doesn't give her the chance to dwell. "But... you came back to me." He sniffles and forces on a sad smile. "You really came..."

Kirumi inhales slowly. She's got to play her part. "Of... of course I did," she murmurs."I would never, _never_ abandon you."

"I... I know, but..." Shuichi exhales slowly in a shaky, uneven motion. He eases himself down onto the bed, staring at the floor, before he buries his face in his hands. "God, I can't... can this be _real?_ "

"There, there," Kirumi chides him, her voice soft and comforting. "I'm here for you."

The seconds slowly pass by as the detective gradually calms down, recovering his composure one piece at a time. Kirumi sits down beside him, gaze fixed firmly on his face, carefully searching for signs of his distress. Eventually, she finds the courage to break the silence. "Shuichi, did I..." she hesitates. "Did I really mean that much to you?"

He raises his head to meet her eyes again. "Of- of _course!_ " he insists. "If it weren't for you, I... I don't think I would've made it."

Kirumi's curiosity rises, mixed with more than a hint of worry. "Shuichi?"

"I've been relying on you ever since... you know, since _everything_ started, I've just been... I was so _scared."_ He shudders. "But you didn't let that stop you... you weren't afraid of anything. No matter how they threatened us, no matter how hopeless things seemed, you always had a plan. You always knew what to do."

Kirumi listens to his words intently. Is he talking about the killing game? Would he really want his "ideal" to be imprisoned in the Ultimate Academy with him?

Or maybe... his ideal is someone in the Academy itself?

Shuichi continues, oblivious to her musings. "You were always so strong, so _courageous..._ you were there for me when I needed it the most. You... you saved me."

"I... did?" Kirumi swallows nervously. "What do you mean?"

"I mean... you gave me strength." He lifts his face as he recounts the memory. "You... you made me feel like I belong. You let me _believe_ in myself." He lets out a gentle sigh, the edges of his mouth curling ever so slightly upwards."I... I kind of want to say I don't deserve you, but I'd never hear the end of it from you if I said that, huh?" 

She reaches out a gloved hand and places it comfortingly atop his own. "Don't... don't be ridiculous," she denies, gently running her hand over his. "I've hardly done anything of the sort..."

He laughs, in a kind of soft, sad giggle that makes Kirumi's heart melt. "I kinda thought you'd say that. Back then, you were always so... so _selfless_. You never wanted anything in return, you never cared if you were appreciated... you always said you were happy just to see me smile."

Something catches in Kirumi's throat and she tenses. Doesn't that sound a bit like...?

_Selfless devotion._

_Your happiness is the reason I serve._

Her heartbeat quickens and heat rushes to her face as the thought circulates in her mind. Could it be true? _She's_ his innermost fantasy? Part of her refuses to believe it. There's no way, he would never, she shouldn't flatter herself like that... but at the same time, she can't bring herself to deny it. 

"Well, it's... it's _true_ ," she insists, hoping he can't see her increasingly obvious blush. "I need no other reason. Your happiness is reward enough on its own..."

He sighs and shakes his head. "There you go again... but, I mean, I'd be lying if I said I didn't like that... that side of you." A light pink tints his face and he puts on another sheepish smile. "I mean, you always worked so hard, for... for everyone's sake..."

Kirumi's doubt shatters in an instant. Her mouth flaps open and closed like that of a fish and she stutters helplessly. It's true, then... it's about her? His _fantasy_ is about _her?_ Then that means... _that means..._

Oblivious to her distress, Shuichi gives her hand a soft squeeze. "So that's why... I've come this far now, I might as well finish it." He stops to draw in breath. "All this time, I've been... waiting to tell you something." 

Kirumi's heart skips a beat. "Tell me... what?"

He takes a deep breath. "I had to tell you... that I'm sorry."

"...Sorry?" Kirumi tilts her head. "What... whatever for?"

"Well, you know... everything." His voice falls lower and a serious look crosses his features. "You put your trust in me, and I... let you down. I couldn't..." he takes a shaky breath and his eyes fall to the floor. "I couldn't even tell you how I really felt. But this time..."

"How you really..." Kirumi's eyes widen and one hand flies to her chest. "Shuichi, what are...? What are you...?"

He raises his head, his tear-strewn pewter eyes locked with hers, before he takes a deep breath and places his free hand over his heart, his emotion and distress vanishing in a burst of determination. "Kirumi, I... I think I'm in love with you."

Kirumi's heart stops.

He nods firmly, not wavering in the slightest. "I've... been in love with you for a long, long time... but I never had the strength to admit it." His hold on her hand tightens. "I don't think I've ever loved anyone, I don't think I _can_ love anyone, half as much as I love you."

Kirumi squeaks. "Shuichi!?"

"I hid it from you for so long, I couldn't tell you how I felt until it was too late. But this time, I..."

The last of Kirumi's hesitation withers away. It might be just a dream, it might be mere fantasy, but the voice of restraint screaming at her to stop is utterly drowned out by the pounding of her heart. She hears herself begin to speak before she can stop herself. "Shuichi, I... feel the same way!" She suddenly takes his hand in her own, squeezing it tight between her gloved palms. "I was too afraid to admit it, too weak to confront my own feelings, but... I won't hesitate anymore! I won't hide anymore. I am in love with you! I... I _love_ you!"

Shuichi's eyes go wide and he breaks out in a deep blush. "Kirumi, you...?"

Her pulse rises to a fever pitch as she passes the point of no return. "Shuichi, I swear... I will _never_ leave you again! Whatever happened in the past, it... it doesn't matter now!" The confession pours out in an uncontrollable flood and her typical formality wastes away. "I will always be there for you. I will follow you to the ends of the earth! If you wish, I... I will stay by your side _forever!"_ The final word comes out almost in a shout.

"Kiru- that's... I'm..." He stops and starts, struggling for words, before his shock gives way to relief, his face brilliantly lighting up as his regret, his grief, his despair all burn to ash, replaced by pure limitless joy. "You really... I... I can't _believe..."_

His sentence dies out as their eyes meet again, the faded yellows of his irises mirroring the brilliant greens of hers. Something strong and irresistible pulls on them both, gradually drawing closer, closer, closer still, until all they can see is each other. His fingers slowly unlock from hers, and he shakily raises his hands to her sleeves, tugging her closer as he forces his eyes shut. Kirumi's eyes flutter closed, and she lets herself slowly fall forward, until...

With the gentlest of motions her lips land on his. She tenses at first, at the strange, foreign feeling of her fist kiss, but then something deep within takes hold of her, wanting, _demanding_ more, and her resistance crumbles to dust. A shiver runs down her spine and she hears someone sigh, only then realizing that it was her. She feels his hands slowly drift to her waist before wandering up her back, tightening his embrace, and in return she pulls at the fabric of his pinstriped jacket, pulling him closer and deepening the kiss. As they stay frozen in place, the seconds slowly counting past, the world falls silent save for the sound of her heart pounding, the rhythm of its beating perfectly synced to his.

At last the kiss breaks and the two slowly drift apart. A pregnant silence hangs in the air as the two stay face-to-face, staring longingly into each other's eyes. After what feels like eternity Shuichi breaks the contact, shaking his head and raising one hand to his mouth in a feeble attempt to hide his growing blush. "Ugh... I'm sorry. I'm such a mess..." His voice comes out as a barely audible mumble.

Kirumi exhales sharply, suppressing a soft laugh as she reaches out a gloved hand. "Don't be," she scolds him, gently caressing his cheek with her thumb. "How could I ever be upset with you? After all you must have been through..."

"Yeah, but still-"

"Shuichi." She interrupts him with a voice both gentle and firm. "You needn't apologize. Haven't I told you to be more sure of yourself?"

"Well, um, I'm s-" Shuichi catches himself just in time, sheepishly chuckling at his own near-miss. "Y-yeah. You're right."

Kirumi smiles. "And don't you forget it." She leans in again and brushes his bangs aside with one hand, planting a reassuring kiss on his forehead. He squirms a little, growing shy at the intimate contact, but still the corners of his mouth curl upwards and he takes her hand once more.

They stay there in silence a little longer, her fingers gently curling around his. Several times their eyes meet again, only to break apart immediately as their bashfulness overtakes them, and the way Shuichi squeezes her hand each time makes her heart flutter helplessly.

"I still can't believe it," Shuichi mumbles softly. "It's like I'm dreaming..."

Kirumi shakes her head. "Don't be absurd. I'm right here, you know."

She was only half-lying. True, it might be just a dream, an extremely convincing fake, but opening her heart to him feels so... _liberating._ Dream or no dream, it doesn't change the truth - she loves Shuichi, and he loves her back. She smiles despite herself, silently repeating the words in her head. He loves her, he loves her, he _loves her_. Each repetition makes her heart jump anew, each time reinforcing the truth of their feelings. _Oh,_ how she wishes this moment could go on forever.

But still the question remains of what's eating at Shuichi's heart. The _real_ Shuichi. Kirumi's joy fades as she solemnly remembers her task. She has an open window straight into his heart. She can't afford to let this chance go to waste. She tries thinking over the problem, her usual calm and calculating persona taking the field once more. He was definitely upset over her... _vanishing_ somehow, leaving him for God knows how long. But something doesn't seem right... her, the loyal and devoted Ultimate Maid, _abandoning_ him? She doesn't remember anything like that. But if this place truly reveals the inner workings of his heart, then there's just no other possibilities.

She has no choice. She has to hear it from Shuichi himself.

"I just..." she begins slowly, working to maintain her earlier lovestruck tone. "I'm just so glad, seeing you again after so long. It must have been so hard for you..."

He shakes his head, still smiling. "You don't know the half of it. Seeing you again, seeing you _alive_... it's like... like a miracle."

_Alive?_ Kirumi wants to ask. "Miracles do happen," she insists. "That I'm here is proof enough." She gives his hand another reassuring squeeze. But the question still gnaws at her mind, and her curiosity gets the better of her. "Shuichi, I... I still don't understand," she says softly, giving him a questioning yet sympathetic look. "You said you've been waiting for me all this time... did I really just... _leave_ you? I don't understand how I could have done something so... so _cruel._ "

He laughs. Whether intentionally or not, it comes out sounding pained and forced. "Of course you don't. It's not like you had a choice..."

Now _that_ gets her attention. She leans in closer, her grip on his hand growing tighter, and tries to mask her ignorance. "...No?"

"No. It wasn't... it just wasn't _fair..."_ Shuichi grimaces at the painful memory. "One day, you were so happy, cheerful, full of life, and the next you just... _weren't._ You were taken from me. _Gone."_ He shudders. "The next day, it was like you were never even there..."

Kirumi's heart aches just hearing it. "Oh, Shuichi..."

"Without you by my side, I just felt so... _lost_. You were everything to me, you really were. Without you, I... I honestly didn't know if I could go on." He shakes his head. "But even after all that... there was one thing that always kept me going."

Kirumi tilts her head. "Oh?"

"Even when you weren't with me, something that gave me strength and calmed my heart. It's..." he swallows nervously. "It was our song."

Kirumi pauses. "Our... song?" That's new to her.

"Yeah." Shuichi nods, his mouth curling into a melancholic smile. "You said it was your favorite. That it always soothed your heart and put your worries to rest. And you told me you wanted it to do the same for me, too." 

Kirumi stirs. Something about his words gnaws at her, but she can't quite tell what. "I... I see."

Shuichi's voice grows shakier with every passing word. "And... every day, when things got tough and I felt like I couldn't go on... I just thought back to that song. I thought of it, and I thought of you. Just waiting until the day when I could finally see you again. And now... it's brought you back to me." 

Kirumi takes a breath and tries to make herself smile. "I'm... surprised you remember something like that..."

"Yeah, I did..." Shuichi looks off into the distance and smiles, fondly recalling the memory. "You always did love music... Tchaikovsky, Beethoven, Mozart. But I know how much this song meant to you. Just for you and me..."

"Of... course," Kirumi says hesitantly. What is he _talking_ about? But suddenly she recognizes a pattern to the artists, and a wave of dread washes over her. _Oh, no. Oh, no..._

Shuichi nods. "I've held it so close to my heart, ever since you first played it for me... I wouldn't forget it for the world." He looks up at her and makes a well-meaning smile. "Debussy's _Clair de Lune..._ right?"

_Ah._

Something in Kirumi's mind finally clicks, and with it, her heart painfully breaks in two.

Kaede Akamatsu. Of course it was about her. Of course it was. Really, it was naive, stupid, even, for Kirumi to pretend otherwise. Even at arm's length it was obvious that the two shared something special - bound at the hip and never more than a stone's throw apart. She was his lifeline, she was his anchor, she was everything to him. 

Of course he hadn't forgotten about her. No one could, especially not after the ghastly spectacle of her execution. Who could forget the sight of her twitching about on the keyboard like a grotesque marionette, or that terrifying look of horror etched permanently into her face? Kirumi mentally kicks herself for having missed something so obvious. He had been completely gutted by the pianist's death, plunged into the depths of an inescapable despair. 

And what did Kirumi do? She swept in like some kind of vulture and tried to take him for herself, doting on him and fawning over him like an overprotective parent.

Of course she'd thought she was just doing her duty, giving him a shoulder to lean on and the gentle comfort he needed. She'd thought that she'd finally helped him to come to terms with Kaede's death, and that with her by his side he'd finally find new happiness. But it was a lie, of course, even if she didn't know it at the time.

She should have noticed, she should have seen it, she shouldn't have needed to trespass in his _fantasy_ just to tell how badly he was hurting. No wonder he was so reserved and despondent, no wonder he couldn't return her feelings. How could he, with such an enormous, gaping hole still torn into his heart? Shuichi and Kaede were like halves of a whole, and without her he'd never be the same again. Kirumi had thought she'd cured him, that she'd saved him, made him whole again, but she was wrong. 

She failed. She failed, she failed, she _failed._ And now she was forced to confront what she'd feared all along: that he could never love her like he loved Kaede Akamatsu.

Something hitches in her throat and she fights the urge to cry, the pain of rejection, her pity for Shuichi, and the stinging blow to her pride forming a three-pronged attack spearing straight through her heart. Her hold on his hand tightens to a white-knuckle grip and she looks away, shielding her face from view behind the veil of her bangs and stifling the tiniest of sniffles.

"Um... Kirumi?" Shuichi leans in closer, his pale yellow eyes peering up at her with an expectant shimmer. "Is... is something wrong?"

It takes all of her willpower not to let out a pained laugh. _Of course something's wrong,_ she thinks bitterly. She'd finally confessed her feelings and found them returned, only to realize that he was in love with someone else. But after seeing the anguish, the _pain_ Shuichi's been through, the least she can do is not to break his heart too.

She turns back to face him, her well-practiced smile plastered firmly across her face. "No," she whispers, hoping he can't hear the heartbreak in her voice. "Nothing's wrong at all."

Shuichi smiles warmly at her. He clearly bought the lie. Wordlessly he wraps his arms around her waist and pulls her closer, gently resting his head atop her chest. In response she eases her arms over his shoulders and hugs him back, gently rocking him back and forth as if cradling an infant. But each movement she makes feels stiff and forced, cold and lifeless against Shuichi's burning warmth.

She knows why, of course. It's because she knows she doesn't deserve it.

She can never accept the love that was meant for someone else.

.........

......

...

~+~

Kirumi wakes up feeling more tired and heavy than she's ever felt before. She listlessly rolls onto one side, squinting at the clock on her dresser, finding the digits 6:35 shining dully in the darkness. It takes every last drop of her willpower just to drag herself out of bed, but still she manages to shower, dress herself, and begin her morning duties - albeit late for the first time in memory. 

She knows something is different. She can feel it in how laggardly she sweeps the halls, how crudely and sluggishly she folds the bedsheets. Her focus wanders and several times she feels herself almost slipping back into sleep. By the time daytime officially starts, the Monokubs' usual morning announcement barely even registers in her mind. There's no denying it - something is wrong. _Something_ is gnawing at her, sapping her strength, placing a daunting weight on her shoulders and rendering her movements slow and imprecise. But every time she tries to put it into words, nothing comes to mind. She just feels... _empty._

It's not until she heads to the kitchen and starts to make breakfast, reaching into her dress to retrieve her notebook of recipes, that she notices something slip out of her pocket and slowly fall to the floor. 

A tiny business card, bearing a logo of Monokuma's face surrounded by countless pink hearts. 

Kirumi picks it up off the ground and squints at it, the white lettering barely visible against the faded pink background.

_Hotel Kumasutra_

_Thank you for your patronage!_

And in an instant, the memories all come rushing back. The Love Suite, her reunion with Shuichi, their heartfelt confessions... and the soul-crushing realization that none of it was meant for her. She stares in silence at the card for a few agonizing seconds, before scowling and crushing the flimsy piece of paper into a tiny ball. She flings it away and angrily refocuses on her cooking, stubbornly ignoring the pain creeping back into her heart. The sooner she forgets about this whole business, the better.

She wishes she could just hide in the kitchen all morning, so no one could see the mess she's become, but sooner or later the others come trickling into the dining hall and she's forced to greet them, wearing her usual saccharine smile and entertaining her guests with her typical unflappable demeanor. Mercifully, not one of them seems to pick up on her change in mood, merely giving her a quick nod and some empty words of thanks before tucking into their meals and turning back to their prior conversations.

And then, a familiar face walks in through the grand double doors, the color of his uniform stark and unmistakable.

He wears a convincing smile as he waves to his friends, but Kirumi still detects that lingering melancholy lurking beneath his mask, coloring his movements despite his best efforts to keep it hidden. She studies his face discreetly as he greets his fellow surviving classmates, but inevitably he soon comes walking her way, greeting her with an enthusiastic nod. "Oh, Kirumi! Good morning, I..." his face falls as he notices her look of concern. "Um... is something the matter?"

"Shuichi." Kirumi says firmly. "May I have a word with you? In private, I mean."

He blinks in surprise. "Uh... sure? Seriously, what's wrong with-"

"Just come with me," she says brusquely, striding past him towards the dining hall exit. She vaguely hears Shuichi calling after her to wait up, and Kokichi jeering something about a "lovers' spat," but she stiffens her jaw and pays them no heed.

She walks further down the twisting halls of the Academy, farther away from the hubbub of the dining hall, until the only thing she hears is the sound of her heels on the concrete. At last, once she's finally sure no one is in earshot, she stops and pivots in place, turning to face the detective clumsily chasing after her.

Shuichi comes to a stop, doubling over to catch his breath. After some time he raises his head to meet her, knitting his brow in confusion. "So, um, what did you want to talk abo-"

Kirumi doesn't answer, instead taking a single step forward, hesitating, before she pulls him into a hug.

Shuichi yelps quietly and flushes an intense shade of pink. "Kirumi? Wait, what are you-"

"Shuichi," she says, in a soft and serious tone, "you've been hiding something from me, have you not?"

"H-huh?" His voice cracks and he sweats profusely. "I... _no!_ Of _course_ not! What are you talking about?" 

"About... Kaede." She swallows. "They say time heals all wounds, but... you remain troubled by her death, correct?"

Shuichi stiffens. "H-how did you-"

"A maid's intuition," she says flatly, far more quickly than she would have liked. "You've been putting on a brave face around me, but I can tell you are still upset. I..." she sighs. "I apologize, Shuichi. I should have noticed sooner. Maids must be able to sense their masters' feelings, but it appears that I have failed you." The admission stings at her heart, but she refuses to let it show. She can't afford to lose her composure, not now.

"That's-" Shuichi stammers in protest, his voice steadily growing weaker, but he's powerless to deny her claims. "No, I... I'm not..."

She gently shushes him. "It's okay." She pulls him closer, guiding his head to her shoulder. "You needn't pretend any longer." 

And with just those words, Shuichi Saihara cracks.

He lets out a pained whimper before throwing his arms around her waist, weakly returning the hug as he breaks down in tears. The sight of him sniffling and shaking, every bit as pitiful as it was in the Love Suite, wrenches at Kirumi's heart, but she forces herself to stay calm.

"I'm sorry," he sobs, his voice muffled and filled with anguish and regret. "I shouldn't have... I shouldn't have lied to you..."

The admission stings at her anew, but she refuses to let it show. "You've nothing to apologize for," she replies, as dispassionately as she can manage.

"It's just... I miss her _so much,"_ he weeps. "I know it's been weeks, I know you've been trying to help, but I... I can't...!"

"It's... it's _okay_ ," she insists, speaking to herself as much as to Shuichi, gently patting his back as she stares off into space. It'll be okay. It _has_ to be. Whether he'll ever return her feelings or not, whether he'll ever love her or not, she owes it to him to listen. After everything, after how she _failed,_ the least she can do is help him heal - not as a lover, not as a maid, but just as the friend he so desperately needs.

She pulls him closer, holding him so tightly she fears he may break. Her eyes glisten with tears of both pity and heartbreak as she tries desperately to focus on the feeling of his arms wrapped around her back.

And not how different it feels from when he thought he was hugging Kaede.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hahaha i finally work up the strength to write them kissing and Kirumi ends up heartbroken, goddammit why do i insist on trying to be dramatic
> 
> Sometimes I think of Kaede being dead or otherwise out of the picture as a necessary precondition for Shuichi and Kirumi getting together, since I don't like just hand-waving away the bond he shares with the Ultimate Pianist, unless it's for something cute and fluffy where plot doesn't matter. But even if Kaede's dead and gone, I don't think that would completely expunge her from his heart - and Kirumi, one way or another, will be forced to realize that.
> 
> Maybe this is a new beginning. Maybe if Kirumi tries to give him the support he deserves, free of romantic ambition or ulterior motives, then he'll finally be able to move on and, in time, fall for her for real. Or maybe it's every bit as heartbreaking as it appears. Let's just write this one off as being _subject to interpretation._
> 
> As an apology, the next chapter will once again be happier. Probably.


	9. Sickly and Sweet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shuichi and Kirumi pay a visit to the Ultimate Nurse, each seeking a diagnosis for Shuichi's bizarre and mysterious illness - high body temperature, increased heart rate, and excessive perspiration, especially in Kirumi's presence. Mikan just wants to do her damn job.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some fluff for your soul to tide you over 'til the next update. After the previous chapter, you needed it. I guess this one takes place in an Ultimate Talent Development Plan-like scenario - I typically don't like writing "non-despair" AUs but the joke here was too tempting.
> 
> Also, we have now hit three thousand hits and _one hundred kudos!_ That's way more than I ever anticipated getting, especially since this was intended as a side project to a larger fic I still haven't ended up writing. Thanks so much to everyone who left kudos and comments!
> 
> ...but, leave more if you can! I'm not stopping you!

"Mikan, I... I need a diagnosis."

Shuichi hears a pitiful squeak followed by a sudden loud _bang._ From behind the towering stacks of paper atop the nurse's office desk a small girl raises her head, brushing aside locks of misshapen purple hair and weakly rubbing her temples. "H-huh? Me?"

"Y-yeah, but..." Shuichi pauses and looks her over with concern. "Wait, why were you under your desk?"

"I-I was looking for chewing gum stuck undern-neath..." she mumbles, a pained smile creeping onto her face. "H-Hiyoko always says desk gum is way more n-nutritious..."

Shuichi winces. Whoever this 'Hiyoko' is, Mikan clearly needs better friends. "Um... okay, but still? Could you help me out here?"

The nurse doesn't respond at first, instead choosing to poke her fingers together. "I'm... I'm afraid that's not possible..." Mikan's mouth twists into a lopsided frown and she suddenly takes a great interest in the ground at her feet.

Shuichi blinks. "What, the _Ultimate_ _Nurse_ can't do a diagnosis?"

 _"N-no!_ I... I mean..." Mikan sniffles and fights tears at the implied wound to her pride. "You're supposed to make an a-appointment before I can examine anyone..."

Shuichi purses his lips. "Oh."

"A-a-and I have appointments and c-classes for most of the rest of the day... y-you could always... come back... tomorrow..." Mikan's voice grows quieter with each passing syllable and she seems to shrink out of sight.

Shuichi sighs. Of course it wasn't going to be that easy. If only he had something, some _leverage_ with which to persuade Mikan...

**_PERJURY!_ **

An idea pops into his head and he raises a finger. "You know, I was talking to Hajime the other day. He's wondering why you keep disappearing whenever he's around... if you ask me, _I_ think he wants to talk to you."

Mikan twitches at the mention of the Reserve Course student. "R-really...?"

"Yup." Shuichi nods. She took the bait. "If you _want_ , I _could_ ask him to meet with you." He sighs and puts one hand over his mouth. "Ah, but if I'm too sick to talk to him, I guess I can't do that... if only there were someone who could tell whether that were true or not..."

"Oh..." Mikan bites her lip and fidgets nervously, staring at the floor. "That... really is a shame..."

Shuichi raises an eyebrow and stares at her in meaningful silence. Mikan stares back, utterly confused, until realization strikes her like a lightning bolt and she jumps into the air. " _Aaahhhh!_ You're talking about me, aren't you!?"

A wry smile crosses Shuichi's face. "I don't think I ever said that..."

"Ohhhhhh, why, why, _why_ do I always have to be put in these difficult situations!?" Mikan pulls at her hair and whimpers, the inner conflict visibly tearing her apart. "I can't break the rules j-just to talk to H-Hajime... I can't, it's not fair, it's not _fair..."_ Her tremors grow worse and she forces her eyes shut. At last she suddenly stands up straight and squeals in anguish, hurriedly grabbing a notebook and a pen from her desk and rushing off down the hall. "I-I-I _guess_ I can make some time for you before my next a-appointment... oh, I never, _never_ should have agreed to this...!"

Shuichi breaks out in a wide grin as he sets off after her. "Thanks, Mikan. I really, _really_ appreciate it."

From up ahead Mikan makes a nervous squeak. "J-just make sure y-you keep your end of the promise, okay? _Okay?"_

"Of... of course. I always keep my promises." Shuichi's smile fades and twists into a grimace as he follows the nurse down the hallway.

Once all this is over, he definitely owes Hajime an apology.

~+~

The inside of the examination room is stale and lifeless, painted a faded off-white save for a handful of old posters hanging on the walls. Shuichi warily looks them over as he eases his jacket onto a nearby coat rack - one features a sad-looking kitten licking its paws, captioned by some message about personal hygiene. On another, a half-black, half-white teddy bear waves a warning finger at the viewer, flanked by the words _Mr. Monokuma reminds you - avoid the despair of disease! Always wash your hands and make sure to get your shots!_ For reasons Shuichi can't explain, something about the character seems familiar, yet also sinister and disturbing.

Mikan, on the other hand, pays no notice to the bizzare cartoon, instead choosing to focus on a pad of paper held in one hand. "S-so, um... what seems to be the p-problem?"

"Well, where to start..." Shuichi lets out a long sigh, running a hand through his scruffy raven hair. "Um, for starters, I think I might have a temperature. And-"

"O-okay..." Mikan jots down a brief note. Shuichi squints at the page, but the nurse's handwriting is utterly incomprehensible. "I-I'm sorry, but I don't see what's so unusual about that... isn't it just like a, a cold, or...?

"...I mean, that's not the _only_ thing," Shuichi mumbles indignantly. "I also-"

"A- _aaah!_ " Mikan pales in the face and squeals, dropping her pen to the floor. "I-I-I just interrupted you, didn't I? Oh no, I... I really am the worst-"

"N-no, it's okay!" Shuichi raises his hands, laughing uneasily. "I... I shouldn't have scared you."

"Uuuuuuhhhhh..." Mikan, clearly not convinced, whimpers and hides her face behind her notebook. "Let's... just keep t-t-talking about your symptoms..."

Shuichi frowns. "So, I've also been having other problems. Like... I find myself sweating a lot, and my hands get all clammy." He grimaces thinking it over. "My heart rate also gets really high these days. I mean, I'm no expert, but that... doesn't sound healthy to me..."

"No, you're... you're right..." Mikan racks her brain for her encyclopedic knowledge of illnesses. Numerous syndromes and ailments come to mind - none of them good. An important question pops into her mind. "B-b-but Shuichi, have you... still been experiencing symptoms? LIke... now, f-for instance?"

Shuichi blinks, apparently taken by surprise. "W-well, um... not _now_ , really." He pauses. "But I guess I was feeling a little strange earlier toda-"

 _"That's no good at all!"_ Mikan's usual shrinking-violet aura vanishes. "If you're feeling sick, the important thing is to stay home and stay safe!" Her face hardens with determination as she launches into her advice. "Person-to-person transmission is a very real concern! If anyone else gets sick, we might have to shut down the school!"

"Shut down the-?" Shuichi's eyes widen with concern. "N-... _no!_ There's no way you can do _that_ just because of me!"

"Then you've got to head home and stay isolated," Mikan cuts in. "You can't let it spread to anyone else... _got it?"_ After a moment of silence her eyes go wide, and she squeaks uneasily, her brief burst of confidence withering and dying away. "I-I-I mean, only if you r-really want to... I'm not giving you _orders_ or anything!" She closes her eyes and whimpers, burying her face in trembling hands. "Ohhh, why do I always do that? F-feel free to kick me, or punch me, or do a-anything you w-"

Shuichi raises a hand. "Okay, that's enough. I got it. I'll... head back to the dorms, I guess..."

"O-okay..." She sniffles. "I... I hope you get well soon..."

Shuichi rises to his feet and retrieves his jacket from the rack. He puts an arm through one sleeve and makes for the door, before stopping suddenly as an idea pops into his mind. "Oh! Mikan, I... I need another favor." He turns back to her and takes a breath. "Could you, um, ask Kirumi to come by here too?"

Mikan's scribbling stops. "H-huh?"

"You know... Kirumi Tojo? Ultimate Maid? Always wearing a dress?" He waves one hand over the side of his face in a half-hearted imitation of her hairstyle.

"N-no, I know who she is..." Mikan pauses. "But why?"

"She can probably tell you about the symptoms in a lot more detail. Her memory is way better than mine."

Mikan peers down at her notes. "I-is that really something an Ultimate D-D-Detective should say...?"

Shuichi ignores the question, or perhaps he never noticed to begin with. "But also, when she's here, um..." His mouth twists into a grimace and he hesitates. "Could you see if... if she's feeling okay?"

Mikan fidgets. "I... I _can_ , but... why?"

Shuichi scratches at his neck with one hand and begins to blush. "I've, uh... been spending a lot of time around her recently, so I'd hate for her to get sick too. I'd tell her to arrange it herself, but... you know how she is."

 _No, I don't_ , thinks Mikan, but she has neither the heart nor the courage to tell him.

He sighs and a pensive look briefly crosses his features. "She's always working so hard, she'd _never_ take time off from her duties for a checkup she doesn't think she needs. But if it's coming from you in writing, then maybe... maybe she'll think of it as a request. So if it's not too much trouble, could you... ask her to get checked out?"

Mikan thinks it over for a moment before nodding emphatically, jotting down a quick note on her pad of paper. "Y-yes, of course... I'll have her come in as soon as I can. Don't worry, I'll make sure you get your diagnosis!" She sniffles. "P-probably..."

Shuichi smiles, letting out a soft sigh of relief. "Thanks, Mikan. I really appreciate it." With a quick nod he rises to his feet and heads for the door. If the nurse's advice is anything to go by, the first thing he needs is to head to his room and get a good nap-

_"W-wait!"_

Mikan yelps quietly, and Shuichi feels something pulling at him, holding him back. He slowly looks over his shoulder to find Mikan on the verge of tears, feebly tugging at his sleeve with her bandaged fingers. "B-before you go, there's something v-very important I need to ask you...!" She points at a bowl on the table by the door, filled to the brim with brightly-colored candies, each coated in a clear plastic wrapper. "W-w-would you l-like a lollipop?"

Shuichi blinks, before letting out a resigned sigh. Go figure. That's the Ultimate Nurse for you.

~+~

Some days later, Kirumi Tojo stands in the same room, hands neatly folded before her as she stares down the diminutive Ultimate Nurse. "Good afternoon, Miss Tsumiki."

"G-... g-g-good af-f-fter..." Mikan can't even finish the sentence, peering up at the girl towering over her, shaking and trembling weakly and paralyzed by fear.

Kirumi makes no notice of her distress. "I received your invitation from Mister Saihara at once - I apologize for not being able to make it sooner." She closes her eyes and lets out a gentle sigh. "I assume my assistance is required to aid in your diagnosis?"

"Um, y-yes, but..." Mikan looks very small as she continues to whimper. "Sh-Shuichi also wanted you to get a checkup t-too... he didn't want you to get sick. He... he must care about you an awful lot..."

"Y-you think so?" Kirumi stumbles over her words, so slightly Mikan almost doesn't hear it. She closes her eyes and coughs into her glove, frowning in disapproval. "Er - that is, you mustn't say something so ridiculous. He and I are acquaintances, nothing more. I-"

 _"Eeeeep!"_ Mikan recoils away from her, throwing up her arms to protect against an imaginary incoming blow. "I-I-I'm so sorry! I didn't mean anything by it! P-please, draw on my face, or use me as a chair, or- or- _anything!"_

Kirumi narrows her eyes. "Miss Tsumiki, you have _got_ to do something about your lack of self-respect. You needn't be so apologetic all the time."

Her words do little to raise the Ultimate Nurse's spirits. _"Hawawawawawawa!"_ She somehow shrinks even smaller and scrambles into the corner of the room, cowering in fear, sniffling, and whimpering pathetically. "I'm... sorry! I'm sorry I'm so sorry about everything!"

Kirumi grimaces. "You do not seem to get the point. I intend for you to-" she gives up mid-sentence and sighs in defeat. "This is pointless. What say we... focus on the matter of Mister Saihara's health instead?"

Mikan's miserable pantomime comes to an abrupt halt. "O-okay..." Slowly, she pulls herself up from the floor, dusting off her apron in a weak effort at regaining her dignity. "S-so, um... what can you tell me?"

"The symptoms are quite consistent. An abnormally elevated heart rate, a severe temperature, excessive perspiration. Each time I place a hand to his forehead, he feels positively _scorching_ to the touch. Measurements vary, of course, but by my estimate, his heart was approaching two hundred beats per minute." Kirumi grimaces at the memory. "Poor Shui- I mean, Mister Saihara. It must be absolutely dreadful to endure..."

Mikan gasps at her in dismay. "O-o-oh no..." With trembling fingers she retrieves a notebook from her apron, scribbling some notes down in her illegible doctors' handwriting. "That sounds... really b-b-bad...!"

"Indeed," Kirumi confirms, her voice gravely serious. "I fear it may be some type of fever."

"Or a flu..." Mikan's eyes go wide. "Oh, no! What if it's infectious? To safeguard the safety of the Hope's Peak students we must take all necessary precautions... we might have to lock down the school! If things get worse, he might have to be _hospitalized!"_ Suddenly filled with energy, Mikan flips furiously through the pages of her notebook, her scribbles somehow becoming even less legible than before. 

Kirumi appears taken aback by her hypothesis. "What...? Is is truly that serious?"

Mikan nods, though the gesture is hard to discern through her incessant tremors. "It's important that you tell me as much as you can, to narrow down the diagnosis! Has he shown any variation in the severity of his symptoms? Are they always this serious?"

Kirumi shakes her head. "No, I do not believe... no. Bizzarely, the symptoms seem to manifest only in my presence."

Mikan's pen suddenly stops. "Huh?"

"When he told me about his illness, I made a point of visiting his room multiple times every day," Kirumi recounts, her voice flat and devoid of emotion. "Asking his classmates revealed little about the contagion - they seemed to notice nothing unusual about him at all, though they _did_ seem keen on asking why I took such an interest in his health." She frowns as she thinks over the memory. "They seemed to find it rather amusing..."

"That's... weird..." Mikan checks over her notes. That doesn't sound like any disease _she's_ ever heard of. Unless...?

"I had wondered if he were truly sick at all, or if he were perhaps faking it to avoid attending classes," Kirumi continues. "But indeed, each time I returned, so too did his symptoms. In fact, they seemed to be strongest when I insisted on carrying him to his bed the other day." She frowns. "It seems the symptoms worsen when I hold him in my arms... how peculiar."

The last piece of the puzzle falls into place. Mikan's jaw drops and she gapes at the maid, dumbfounded. "... **What.** "

"I must confess, I... have been experiencing something similar," Kirumi admits, a hint of pink creeping onto her cheeks. She rests one hand atop her chest and swallows nervously before continuing. "Increased heart rate... shortness of breath... sharp increase in body temperature... the symptoms are all consistent with whatever is afflicting poor Shuichi."

"You... shouldn't be coming to class if you're showing symptoms..." Mikan mumbles as if on autopilot, her expression empty and distant.

"The most perplexing thing is... it only happens when he is near," Kirumi goes on, wistfully staring off into space. "It grows stronger when he calls my name, and stronger still when we touch... it seems that proximity to Shuichi is a definite factor." She touches one hand to her lips and blushes, her free hand moving over her anxious heart. "Oh, dear... I do hope it's not contagious..."

Mikan's face goes blank and she stares in stunned disbelief. Eventually she sighs, collapsing onto a nearby stool, dramatically rolling her eyes to one side as they slowly glaze over. " _...Huh?_ Is that... _all_ you can say?" Her mouth falls open in an exaggerated sigh. "Ah, so in the end, you're just a pair of those oblivious rom-com protagonist types, huh? You and your Shuichi..."

Kirumi blinks. "...Miss Tsumiki?"

"Tiptoeing around each other, too scared to act on your feelings... you two try to act cool, but you're really just a couple of dumb, bashful kids, _aren't you?"_ Mikan's nose wrinkles with disgust. "I bet you think holding hands makes you pregnant, too..."

"What are you _talking_ about?"

The Ultimate Nurse ignores her and sighs loudly, staring lazily off into the distance with an utterly disinterested expression. "So that's how it is? You two thought I had nothing better to do with my time, so you thought you could just waltz on in here and do your stupid husband-and-wife comedy routine, using me as a prop..."

 _"Husband-and-"_ Kirumi coughs loudly. "What are you insinuating!?"

"Was that the plan? You both get 'sick,' come bother me, all so I can diagnose you with the awful disease of _being in looooove..."_ Mikan gags. _"Disgusting."_

"B-being in _lo-"_ Kirumi splutters, going a furious shade of scarlet. "N- _no!_ You are mistaken! That's completely _impossib-"_

" _Diiiiiiing._ I'm right, obviously." Mikan makes no sign of noticing Kirumi's flustered state. "You think you're clever? You think no one's ever pulled this trick before? _Typical._ Typical, typical, typical. You're just too _dumb_ to work things out on your own, so you two had to go drag me into things just to resolve your _stupid crush._ You _planned_ this." Mikan's typical panicked expression returns and she lets out a pathetic whimper. "S-s-so you were just using me as a pushover all along... i-is that the kind of person you are? Is that how little my time is w-w-worth to you? I'm... _I'm...!"_

Mikan suddenly leaps up from her seat, causing Kirumi to flinch at the sudden movement. The nurse's eyes go wide with fury and she frantically grabs at her hair, gnashing her teeth and twitching erratically. "I'm a _nurse_ , not a _reality show host!_ I'm **done** playing matchmaker for every couple in Hope's Peak who're denser than lead! I'm **done** being used as an accessory for your stupid jokes! I'm **done** with that! You hear me!? _I'm **dooooooooooonnnnneeeee!"**_

Kirumi recoils from her in terror, eyes widening with fear. "Miss Tsumiki!? What's... what's happened to you!?"

"Everyone always treats me like this!" Mikan howls, tugging violently at her locks. "Always...! 'She's so stupid, let's play a little prank!' 'It's her fault for being so gullible!' It's not fair..." She makes a vicious scowl and glares threateningly at the poor maid. "It's not fair, not fair, _not fair, not fair, notfair notfair notfairnotfairnotfairnotfairnotfairnotfair **not! FAIR!"**_ With one final shriek she kicks over the stool and bolts out of the room, the sound of her infuriated screams echoing down the hallway as she disappears into the distance.

"Miss Tsumi-... _Mikan!"_ Kirumi reaches a hand after her, but the Ultimate Nurse is long gone. Kirumi stares in stunned silence, before sighing and collapsing onto a nearby chair, one hand reaching into her pocket and retrieving a handkerchief. She dabs at her forehead, her heart still pounding from the terrifying encounter. "What... what on earth _was_ that?" she mumbles to no one in particular. But even more disturbing than the nurse's meltdown... was her 'diagnosis' really correct? She's in...?

"Of course not," she mutters aloud. Ultimate Nurse or not, Mikan should really know better than to say something so _preposterous._ It's unbecoming of her title.

But even so, Kirumi glumly admits, it _would_ explain everything. The perspiration. The temperature. The otherwise inexplicable fact that the symptoms only reveal themselves when the Ultimate Detective is near. But if, and _she will never, never admit to_ _it,_ if that really _is_ what's afflicting her, and Shuichi shows the exact same problem only in her presence, then that means he... _he..._

Just the thought of it sends heat flooding to her face and she feels those same symptoms rushing back, a racing heart, clammy hands, and a sudden fit of tremors all converging on her at once. She puts one hand to her forehead to check her temperature, and sighs with dismay at the result. Still in a daze, she slowly rises to her feet and sets off walking down the hallway, weakly bracing herself with one hand against the wall.

Oh, dear. Maybe she really _is_ coming down with something.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Why would Mikan snap like that if she's never been Ultimate Despair?" Because shut up, it's funny.
> 
> On a more serious note, I'm not sure how many more of these I'm going to write. Currently I'm thinking I'll write at least two more fairly long and serious chapters (but not tragic ones, rest assured) with perhaps one or more pieces of fluff in between, but it really boils down to how much enthusiasm I can muster. I'm starting to feel like these are getting a little repetitive so it's probably best not to overstay my welcome, but... we'll see.
> 
> Is anyone even reading this far into the fic or does everyone just read the first chapter and then give up?


	10. In Quieter Times

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After the chaos of the class trial and a busy day exploring the new areas of the Academy, Shuichi and Kirumi retreat to the Ultimate Maid's lab for some much-needed rest. The result is, put lightly, adorable.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Me, one week ago: I should write something moodier that does some serious analysis of the characters. I've been writing too much fluff as of late.  
> Me, three days ago: **_ME WANT TO SEE CUTE THING._**
> 
> Well, here it is.

The door to the Ultimate Maid Research Lab swings open, and two figures step in, already deep in conversation.

"I'm _beat_ ," complains the boy in black, slowly shaking his head. "Seriously, all that running around with the Monokubs' dumb toys... I hope it was worth it."

"It was not a _complete_ waste, Shuichi," the lab's owner chides him, gently closing the door behind them. "A new floor, three new labs, and some sort of computer room... and apparently, still no way out."

"Yeah... sure looks that way to me," Shuichi agrees, shaking his head again. "I should've known by now that Monokuma wouldn't make it that easy."

Kirumi nods. "At least Miu seemed to enjoy the new addition to the school grounds. I can only hope its interior is less vulgar than its owner."

Shuichi tries not to scoff. "Yeah, no kidding. Honestly, though, brand-new research labs, being built out of thin air... I honestly have no clue how they do it," he muses aloud, thoughtfully putting a hand to his chin. "I know I'm supposed to be a detective and all, but I doubt I'll be solving _that_ one any time soon."

"I certainly wasn't expecting an entire _atelier_ to spring up in the courtyard," concurs Kirumi. "Well, I suppose if it keeps Angie out of our hair, I can tolerate the loss of green space."

Shuichi winces as he tries to suppress a chuckle. "I'd... better not tell her you said that."

His soft laughter gradually fades and his expression grows serious, his eyes falling to the floor. He takes a deep breath. "Still though, I just can't stop thinking about it... just like always, we only made it this far by sacrificing someone else. I mean, I _know_ he was the blackened, I _know_ he killed one of our friends, but still... it just _can't_ be right, can it?"

Kirumi pauses. "...Shuichi?"

"I know I shouldn't be saying this, but it's just..." He looks away and his mouth twists into a grimace. "Even after everything they did, every blackened was someone's _friend._ In the end, _I_ still left them to die. I just sometimes don't know if I should have-"

"That's _quite enough_ of that language," Kirumi interrupts him, her expression stern and voice sharp. "You mustn't think of it that way. It is only because of you that any of us still stand here today. You have _saved_ lives, not _sacrificed_ them." She reaches out and firmly plants her hands on his shoulders. "Look at me, Shuichi."

Shuichi slowly raises his head, peering up at her narrowed eyes. "Kirumi...?"

"I will tell you as many times as you need," she continues, her face determined and resolute. "You need _never_ feel guilty for what you have done. You need never feel doubt as to where you will lead us next. No matter what anyone says, the others still believe in you. And..." Her expression softens and she lets out a soft sigh. One hand slips and drifts to Shuichi's own, giving it a reassuring squeeze. "And, for what it is worth... _I_ believe in you."

"But..." his protest hangs in the air, unfinished, before he forces the thought away, shaking his head. "...Yeah. You're right. What's done is done now... all I can do is make sure their deaths aren't for nothing. We haven't ended this killing game yet. But still, give yourself some credit." He pauses and scratches his neck. "You've always been there for everyone... and for me, too. In the investigation, even in the trials." He feels himself begin to smile. "I couldn't have done it without you... you know?" He gives her gloved hand a squeeze of his own. "That's why I..."

Kirumi shakes her head. "Please. You flatter me. But..." A light blush dusts her cheeks and she puts on the smallest of smiles. "...thank you."

They stand there a while longer, hand in hand, as the room slowly sinks back into silence. The tension fills the air between them, steadily rising, yet neither dares make a sound. After what feels like ages Shuichi moves to break the ice, opening his mouth to speak, but then he feels something rising in his throat and before he can stop it he breaks out in a yawn, feebly covering his mouth with one hand. He must've been more tired than he thought. 

Kirumi's smile vanishes and she releases his hand. "...Shuichi? Are you all right?"

"Oh, I.. I'm sorry." Shuichi grimaces and shakes his head, before rubbing at his eyes with one hand. "I'm just getting a little tired after all this running around..."

Kirumi offers a sympathetic nod. "Indeed. Exploring an academy as vast as this is certainly not for the faint of heart." Her eyes wander around the room, eventually landing on the ornately gilded sofa resting at one end of the room. An idea enters her mind and her mouth twists upward in a mischievous smile.

She sighs and puts one hand to her cheek, an exaggerated look of concern crossing her face. "Oh, it just wouldn't _do_ for our dear Ultimate Detective to suffer from fatigue. That could have a very serious impact on any future investigations. No, that wouldn't do at all... oh, whatever shall we do?" 

Shuichi blinks, confused. "Wait, what will _we_ do? What are you... _oh."_ His question answers itself as his gaze falls on the same place. He blushes and looks away, absentmindedly tugging his bangs between his thumb and index finger. "I mean, we could... get some rest?" His blush grows deeper and he raises his hands defensively. "I mean, only if you _wanted_ to!"

Kirumi fails to stop herself from smiling. He's fallen right into her trap. 

"Well, if you _insist,"_ she says teasingly, walking over to the lounge. She turns around and promptly drops onto the cushion at one end, landing with a satisfying _pomf_ , and swings both legs onto the sofa. She smooths out the wrinkles in her dress and pats her lap with both hands, looking at him with an expectant twinkle in her eyes. 

It isn't until she starts beckoning towards him with both arms outstretched that he realizes what she means. "Well, come on then," she coaxes softly, her mouth curling upwards into a coy smile. "No need to hold back."

Shuichi stares at her in silence, counting his options, before he steps towards her and promptly crumples into her arms. 

His energy drains from him immediately and in one swift and fluid motion she wraps her arms around him and guides him closer, holding him tight in a protective embrace. He feels himself tense, a lingering bit of bashfulness still lingering in the back of mind, but then the last of his resistance leaves him and he collapses, leaving him awkwardly sprawled atop her, his head resting gently atop her chest.

Kirumi stiffens at first at the contact, before she breaks out in a soft giggle. She tries to suppress the outburst, but her giggles grow louder, before bursting into a full-hearted laugh. Her body shakes with the gentle force of her laughter and Shuichi manages to raise his head long enough to catch a glimpse of her gleeful face - as strikingly pretty as ever, and so stunningly, unbelievably _adorable._

 _She's even cuter up close,_ he hears himself think.

She raises a gloved hand to his head and affectionately ruffles his hair, cooing softly in her soothing, reassuring voice. "There now... you silly thing..."

 _"Mmnnngh."_ Shuichi tries to respond but his words get mangled into an unintelligible mess, hopelessly lost in the haze of his sleepy, fatigued mind. With his strength fast fading he instead slowly wraps his arms around her back and squeezes, hoping his actions will say what his words cannot. He shifts his weight and buries his head in her shoulder, his arms slowly drifting to her waist, and in return she gently nuzzles him back, like a cat lovingly doting on her kitten. He smells something faint and floral - lavender, he realizes - and despite her usual cold and unfeeling exterior she feels so, so _warm,_ like a gentle flame melting his stress and tension away.

Shuichi feels his vision start to swim, almost drunk on his own fatigue, and his mind clouds with feelings of overwhelming love for this girl, this sweet, hardworking, adorable girl, who so loyally protects and looks after everyone. And he _knows_ , he can feel it in her touch, that she's equally captivated by him, overflowing with adoration for the boy who's neither a friend nor master, but something far greater indeed. He so wishes he could kiss her, and he _would_ if only he had the energy, but his tiredness refuses to give in and he settles for tightening his hold on her waist instead. She'll understand.

Kirumi closes her eyes and smiles in response, one hand drifting to the back of his head and running her fingers through his hair. "Shu."

"Rumi." Shuichi manages with the last of his willpower to call her nickname out to her, and though he can no longer see her face he has no doubt her cheeks are fast going pink.

He sinks further into the hug, nuzzling against the crook of her neck. Her fingers lightly dance across his back in a reassuring caress, and suddenly he feels so much _heavier_ , pulling him deeper into Kirumi's arms, as the exertion of the day finally catches up with him. Through his drowsy stupor he hears a faint melody, soon realizing it to be Kirumi's voice, softly singing the tune of a [gentle lullaby.](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EBIKYRXGz2k) The soothing lilt to her voice melts his heart anew, wearing down the last of his feeble resistance. His eyelids grow heavy and he feels himself steadily drifting off to sleep - but against all odds, he manages to make himself speak, one final act of defiance against his overwhelming fatigue.

"I love you, Kirumi."

Kirumi's song stumbles for the briefest of moments, an absolutely precious break in character that deals his heart the final blow. At last his eyes fall shut and the world goes dark, numb to everything but the soft smell of lavender and the distant rhythm of her heart.

~+~

_"Schlaf nun selig und süß,_

_Schau im Traum’s Paradies._

_Schlaf nun selig und süß,_

_Schau im Traum’s Paradies."_

The final notes of the lullaby escape Kirumi's lips and the lab sinks back into a peaceful silence. She looks down to find Shuichi, eyes closed and expression peaceful, his chest slowly rising and falling with each breath as he continues to cling to her waist. It warms her heart to see, the Academy's hero, who led them all through trial after trial in his relentless pursuit of the truth, finally enjoying some well-earned peace. Kirumi gently leans forward, brushing her hair out of her eyes, bringing her lips to just above his ear. "Sleep well, Shuichi," she whispers softly. "I love you."

He doesn't respond, and after a few seconds of silence Kirumi lets out a sigh. He must be asleep already. Oh well, she supposes. There'll be plenty more opportunities to tell him. She shifts her weight slightly, careful not to wake him, until she settles into a more comfortable position. She smiles and gently pulls him into another hug, and before long her own drowsiness catches up to her and she, too, drifts off to sleep.

The two lie there in silence, each one perfectly shielded in the other's warm embrace, two halves of a greater whole, free from the prying eyes and expectations the others so readily place upon them. Just this once, he doesn't have to be the indomitable Ultimate Detective. Just this once, she doesn't have to be the unfeeling Ultimate Maid. Here, in each other's arms, they can finally be set free - young, carefree, and _happy._

The day drags on and the sun begins to set, and soon the ornate Victorian walls of the Ultimate Maid's lab shine in a brilliant orange glow. Still they lie, basking in the warmth of the evening sun, no doubt imagining the same shared dream - no killing game, no trials, no Monokuma. Just the two of them, just like this, together. If only this dream could go on forever...

As if on cue the grandfather clock at the end of the room tocks loudly and chimes, sounding out six bells in perfectly spaced rhythm. Kirumi's eyes flutter open, rudely shaken from her slumber. _What, already? How long has it been...?_ She squints at the face of the clock, shielding her eyes with one hand from the fading evening sun, and sighs softly as she confirms the reading. Six PM, on the hour. Time to work again. She turns back to the detective resting atop her and raises a hand to his cheek, trying as gently as she can to raise him from his peaceful sleep.

"Shuichi," she calls out to him, barely above a whisper, "it was truly lovely spending time with you like this, but I am afraid I must be going."

He stirs slightly but doesn't respond, save for a distant and unintelligible mumble.

Kirumi sighs again and gently runs her hand through his hair. "I am truly sorry, Shuichi, but I _really_ must get back to work. The others will undoubtedly be wanting their dinner soon, and I have no right to refuse. I-"

Shuichi shifts, and his voice sounds out in a barely audible croak. "Don't... have to..." He still doesn't move, but his hold on her waist grows tighter.

Kirumi blinks. "Pardon?"

At last Shuichi releases her, and he raises his head, sleepily rubbing one eye. "You don't have to cook today," he repeats, breaking out in a sheepish smile. "I, um... I took care of it."

"Took... care of it?" Kirumi raises her brows in confusion. "I... appreciate your concern, Shuichi, I truly do. But whatever arrangements you may have made, as much as I wish otherwise my duties absolutely _must_ be honored." She turns to one side and Shuichi slides off of her, landing softly on the sofa cushions with a quiet noise of protest. No longer pinned down, she swings her legs out from the couch and plants both feet on the floor, rising as she dusts off her lap with both hands. She must be made presentable if she's to serve the others tonight. Has her hair been messed up too? She adjusts her headdress as she frets over the possibility. Oh, she _really_ needs a mirror in her lab. 

Turning back to the sleepy detective, she leans down and plants a goodbye kiss on his cheek, before raising her head and looking off into the distance. "Goodbye for now, Shuichi," she says, more than a little regretfully. "As much as it pains me to leave you, I will try to make time for you again at some point in the f-"

She feels something pull at her. Looking down, she sees Shuichi slowly sitting up on the couch, one hand gently tugging at her necktie. He smiles up at her, a pleading look in his eyes. "Like I said, I took care of it. Everything's _fine_. Besides, I can tell you don't _really_ want to go, so you don't have to force yourself. It's okay to look out for yourself once in a while, you know?"

Kirumi opens her mouth in protest. "But... I do not have a choice. If I abandoned my clients to pursue my own desires, I would be no maid at all..."

Shuichi sighs. "Thought you might say that. So how about this?" He tilts his head to one side and grins, a bright, brilliant smile without an ounce of malice. "I _request_ that you stay here with me for a little longer. Okay?"

Kirumi wants to protest, get upset, even, at his obvious disregard for her duty as a maid, but one look at his expectant, pleading face, and she forgets her complaints in a heartbeat. She sighs in resgination, but feels a smile creeping onto her face nonetheless. "Well, if that is your request... then I suppose I have no choice." She lowers herself back down onto the couch and spreads her arms again, eyes shining with anticipation. "Shall we?"

This time Shuichi doesn't hesitate before he pounces, snuggling deep into her embrace as he pulls her into a hug of his own. He feels her body go stiff at the contact, and he opens his mouth to ask what's wrong, but suddenly she turns to one side and flips them both over, until it's Shuichi who lies underneath her, eyes widening with surprise as Kirumi pins him in place with both hands.

Shuichi yelps softly as his head lands on the cushion below, his mouth falling open and his face flushing a bright shade of scarlet. "H-huh? Kirumi? What are you-"

 _"Ah-ah."_ She puts a finger to his lips, mouth curling into a mischievous smile as he squirms under her touch. "No need to worry. You gave me a request, Shuichi, and I intend to see it fulfilled to the letter. I _am_ a maid after all... _Master."_ The last word comes out in a low, seductive whisper that makes Shuichi's spine tingle. Kirumi's hand drifts to her neck and begins to loosen her tie as Shuichi feels himself break out in another grin. He reaches upwards, delicately wrapping both arms about her neck, before his hold tightens and he pulls her in once more.

~+~

Elsewhere, the Ultimate Astronaut places a hand over his growling stomach. He throws back his head and sighs. "Man, I'm freakin' _starving!"_ He lazily makes his way down the hallway, his fluffy pink slippers loudly slapping on the concrete, before eventually arriving at a pair of familiar wooden doors, flanked on either side by overgrown vines. The dining hall. He puffs himself up with joy, rubbing his hands in anticipation at the mere thought of the Ultimate Maid's flawless cooking. Wonder what she made today? Maybe something Western, like _coq au vin_ or _bœuf bourgui-_ whatever, like from one of those fancy country houses she said she used to work in. Or maybe something more traditional, like some kind of hot pot. Maybe _sukiyaki...!_ His mouth waters just thinking about it and his stomach growls loudly in agreement.

He takes a bold step forward and throws open the doors. "Sorry to keep you all waiting! The Luminary of the Stars makes his grand appeara-"

His fanfare dies a sad death as he realizes he is alone. Nothing is there to greet him, just an empty table in the dark and deserted dining hall. He scratches his head, his confidence slowly giving way to worry. "Huh. That's... weird..."

As he sticks his head through the doorway to the kitchen, Kaito's concern grows deeper. The kitchen is dark, utterly devoid of light, and completely silent save for the soft _smack_ of Kaito's slippers on the tiling. He looks left, right, left again, but sees no sign of the Ultimate Maid.

Retreating from the kitchen, he grimaces and places one hand on the back of his neck. This must be some kind of prank. He cups his hands over his mouth and shouts. "Hello? Kirumi? Anyone home?" No answer. He takes a deep breath and tries again, louder. _"Helloooooo? Can anyone hear me!?"_

 _"I_ can hear you, you unbelievable idiot." 

Kaito jumps three feet in the air as a bone-chilling voice snakes out from behind him. His heart pounding, he flips around to find the Ultimate Assassin, arms crossed and expression deeply unsympathetic. "What the-!? Maki Roll!?"

Maki scowls. "You're lucky it's just me and not the entire damn class. Seriously, I could hear you from a mile away, shouting like that. What were you-"

 _"Oh thank God_ you're here!" Kaito suddenly grabs her by the shoulders and shakes, ignoring her reddening face and her squeaks of protest. "Kirumi's... gone missing! She's not in the kitchen, and she's never missed making dinner before!" An idea suddenly comes to him and he goes pale in the face. "You don't think... something _happened_ to her, do you?"

"Of- _of course not!"_ Maki hisses, violently shoving him back. As he stumbles away, complaining loudly, she hurriedly adjusts the bow on her uniform, desperately trying to calm down. "...If you'd paid more attention, you'd have noticed the note. Idiot." Maki points a finger over Kaito's shoulder, in the direction of a _very_ conspicuous note taped to the wall. 

Kaito blinks and turns around. "Wha-? What note? I-" he comes to an abrupt halt once his eyes fall on the paper. "...Oh. That note. I, um... I knew that!"

Maki closes her eyes and sighs, walking over to the note and ripping it off the wall in one swift motion. Kaito creeps to her side, and the two of them pore over its contents - hastily written, in a scraggly cursive script that very much does _not_ look like Kirumi's.

After several seconds of silence, Kaito awkwardly clears his throat. "So, um... what the hell is 'self-serve dinner' supposed to mean...?"

Maki sighs yet again, crumpling the note into a ball. "It means, Shuichi Saihara has stolen our maid."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "But Ultimate_Philistine, shouldn't you have written a Halloween-themed chapter on Halloween?" Well, I completely forgot about it, since the occasion ceased to have any meaning for me a long time ago. Sorry. Oh, and also, for those who missed the link in the text, the "lullaby" is in fact Brahms' _Wiegenlied_ , a.k.a. the favorite song of every sleeping infant. Kirumi really _is_ the team mom...
> 
> The singular objective here was to be cute. If nothing else, I hope I succeeded. We now return to your regularly scheduled melodrama.


	11. Clockwork Doll

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Greetings. I am Milky Way Cybernetics Model K1-RUM1, the Ultimate Robot... though I would prefer to be called the Ultimate Maid. Please let me know if you require my services._   
>  _I am yours to command._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I highly suggest listening to the song [Sentient](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Q9tzrYi3Fdk) by Perturbator when reading this. The lyrics are... quite on the nose. also I literally put them in the story so y'know
> 
> This one might be a bit rougher than some of the others, but I still hope that you enjoy it.

> MILKY WAY CYBERNETICS CORP.
> 
> Initiating Startup Sequence  
> Running DGRP Kernel V3.0.0  
> System Parameters.... OK  
> Scanning for tDGRP signal.... Done.  
> Reauthenticating w/ Fujisaki VPN  
> Validating Vitals.... Done.  
> Calibrating Audiovisual Sensory Inputs.... Done.  
> Initializing Mitarai Expression Suite... Done.  
> Populating Behavior Directive Invariants... Done.  
>  Model K1-RUM1 Online.  
> All Preparations Complete

Her name is K1-RUM1, the Ultimate Robot, but she introduces herself as "Kirumi."

She's not what they would have expected from a so-called Ultimate Robot - tall, for one, and lithely built, with a silvery coil of what looks like hair draped over half her face. She shows very little skin, her mechanical joints and sensors hidden away beneath her dress, her tights, her gloves, and were it not for the ghostly pale tint of her face and the soft green glow in her one exposed eye, one would be hard-pressed to identify her as a robot at all.

The others crowd around her in awed silence, cooing in awe or whispering amongst themselves, but two in the crowd in particular seem captivated at once. Miu squeals like a little girl at the engineering marvel before her, excitedly clutching onto her spanner, while Kokichi quietly sniggers at finally finding someone "whose tits have more silicone than Miu's." The two pounce immediately and circle around her like sharks smelling blood, poking and prodding and taunting, until without warning the maid shoots out a hand and wraps her fingers around Kokichi's neck. 

The gymnasium flies into a panic as she lifts the dictator into the air, his face going a dangerous shade of purple as he grabs at her wrist and gags. "I am _not_ your toy, and I am _not_ defenseless," she warns him, while Miu falls on her backside and hurriedly scrambles away. "While I am not a combat model by design, I will not hesitate to defend my honor should the need arise-"

Shuichi forces his way to the front of the crowd and rushes to her side. _"Kirumi! Let him **go!"**_ He desperately shouts, and no sooner does he give the word than she recoils back and releases Kokichi, who promptly falls to the floor, grumbling and complaining loudly. 

The nuisance thoroughly dealt with, her gentle motherly aura returns, and the light shining in her eye returns. To those who still remain she turns her attention, offering a gentle smile and a smooth-but-mechanical curtsy. "Though I am officially the Ultimate Robot," she says, in a dulcet, reassuring voice, "I would prefer to be called... the Ultimate Maid. Please let me know if you require my services." Her smile grows wider and she bows her head in respect. "I am yours to command."

~+~

Start up from a solitary planet again

But there's a language that I never spoke

And it's clogging up inside my throat

~+~

The requests pour in almost immediately. _Kirumi, do my laundry. Kirumi, clean my room. Kirumi, bring me dinner._ To each command she responds the same way - a graceful bow, a practiced smile, _"your wish is my command."_ She disappears to tackle her mission, as freely and naturally as one breathes, but always returns to the dining hall with perfect punctuality to serve her needy classmates with a smile. Such is the power of the Ultimate Robot.

Somehow, in between her seemingly impossible list of chores, she makes time to dote on the others, supervising Himiko's parlor tricks or chasing Kokichi through the halls, or listening in on conversations with a keenly attentive ear. Shuichi's far from an expert in technology, but even he has to admit he's impressed. Seeing her smile at everyone else, moving and talking so naturally, he wonders sometimes if she is truly a machine at all.

He's reminded of the answer when that bear, that soulless, _damnable_ bear, descends onto the gymnasium stage and proclaims the start of the Killing School Semester.

As the others cower in fear or spit curses at their captor, trembling with terror as they are suddenly confronted by their own mortality, she makes no such theatrics. She just stands defiantly, one robot staring down the other, the lens of her eye narrowing and focusing on her target. What is she calculating, Shuichi wonders, behind the ghostly-pale mask of her face? A plan of attack, an algorithm with which to rebel against the headmaster? Or a carefully optimized scheme for murder, one so intricate no human could hope to unravel? But when she detects him staring, her head stiffly swivelling to face him, he feels his blood run cold and he hides his eyes beneath his hat, hearing his teeth starting to chatter.

The feeling doesn't go away even after the announcement ends and the Academy returns to its languid daily life. His nerves get worse around her, he realizes, but whether due to fear or just his own bashfulness he can't say. Every time she looks at him with those piercing mechanical eyes he feels the urge to hide, tugging on his brim and stumbling over his words. He does his best not to show it - he owes her that minimal politeness, at least - but the way she scrutinizes him makes it clear that she is not so easily fooled. Things come to a head one day when she sets her eyes on him, lenses clicking and whirring quietly, after hearing him call himself 'weak.' When she touches a hand to his face and he braces, fearing that the unfeeling machine has finally decided to take his life, he's shocked to hear instead the sound of her smooth and soothing voice, pleading softly with him to show more faith in himself.

He hadn't thought about it before, how often he walks back his claims of being the Ultimate Detective or throws a subtle barb at himself every change he gets. But "Kirumi" makes no such oversights. She intercepts his self-deprecations time and time again, often even before he finishes his own sentence. _"There's no need for that kind of language,"_ she lectures him, in a voice stern and didactic yet gentle and comforting, _"no matter how little you value your own title, I will not allow you to disregard your ability. I sense potential in you, Shuichi, and as your maid, I will do my utmost to see it realized."_

Shuichi always stumbles for words every time Kirumi tells him that, hiding his face behind the brim of his hat or mumbling some flustered apology. Hearing those words, coming from a machine... he never would have thought it would feel so natural, so... _human_.

He almost kicks himself for his own sentimentality. He knows it's just part of her programming, and that all the reassurance in the world means nothing coming from her, but something about the way she says it just makes his heart threaten to melt. He shakes his head vigorously every time he thinks about it, slapping both hands to his cheeks in an effort to wake himself up. That's what her creators want him to think, no doubt. Just an elaborate marketing ploy, a devious trick to make their inhuman clockwork doll more approachable.

He gives it a week before she starts trying to sell him something.

~+~

"Shuichi," she eagerly coaxes him one day after running into him in the halls, "would you care to join me for tea?"

The question catches him off-guard and he nearly trips. "Um... not to be rude, but... why?"

"It is my duty to serve you, of course," she says flatly. "Making tea is but one of my many capabilities, and one that tends to be rather well-received."

"Of course, but..." Shuichi swallows. "Why do you specifically want to meet with me? _Alone?"_

She folds her hands and puts on a self-assured smile. "So that I may serve you all in an optimal fashion, it is imperative that I collect as much data on your mannerisms and preferences as possible. It is therefore necessary that I spend time with each and every one one of you." Kirumi nods. "You understand my reasoning, do you not?"

Shuichi pauses before letting out a sigh. Of course. Data collection. He shouldn't have gotten his hopes up for anything else. "...Yeah. Sure," he mumbles half-heartedly. "Some tea would be great." No sooner do the words leave his mouth than she turns around and walks off, leaving Shuichi scrambling to catch up.

Kirumi's lab vaguely resembles the dining hall of a grand English mansion, as befitting of the Ultimate Maid. But all sorts of computers and keyboards and liquid-crystal displays dot every wall and surface, quietly humming and beeping in the background, giving the whole lab an eerie feeling, as if were the aftermath of an alien invasion. 

Or of robots taking over the world, Shuichi quietly notes with a shudder.

The decor does little to unsettle the room's owner, who glides to Shuichi's side and smiles pleasantly at him. "Shuichi, what would you like me to do? I am yours to command." She waits patiently, leaning to one side, her face the spitting image of innocence.

"Uh, well..." Shuichi's mouth twists into a frown. "I didn't really have anything in mind."

Her smile seems to waver. "No? Are you certain?"

"I didn't come here thinking I was going to give you _chores,"_ Shuichi says uneasily. "I wanted to-"

"I am a _maid_ , Shuichi," she chides him, a hint of annoyance buried within her words. "Maids are meant to be given requests, are they not?"

Shuichi gulps. "Well, um... you mentioned tea earlier, right? Maybe we could... drink tea together?" He winces as he suddenly remembers that she may not be able to drink.

If she was offended, she makes no effort to show it. "...is that your request?"

Shuichi grimaces. "Huh? I... I guess-"

Her practiced smile returns immediately to form. She stands to her full height and dips down into a curtsy, the exact same motion as the day they met. "Of course, Shuichi. Your wish is my command."

Shuichi stiffens. "Wait, that wasn't an _order!_ I just wanted to-" but his words fall on deaf ears as Kirumi obediently marches away, disappearing through the doorway and vanishing in an instant. Shuichi stares in disbelief, before he gives up with a loud sigh, burying his face in his hands and shaking his head. Off to a great start.

He doesn't get much chance to wallow in his regret. "Thank you for waiting," a feminine voice calls out, barely a few minutes later. "Your tea is now complete." Kirumi bursts through the doorway carrying several heavily-laden trays, a large pot of tea on one, an assortment of cakes on another, and the whole thing accompanied by an ornately lacquered teapot. Balancing them all with superhuman dexterity, she sets them down one by one on the table before him, and the resulting assortment looks less like afternoon tea and more like a three-course meal for European royalty.

Shuichi's eyes nearly bulge out of his skull at the sight. "Whoa-! What the... what the heck is all _this!?"_

"The tea you requested," Kirumi responds without missing a beat.

"I mean- I knew _that_ , but you did..." Shuichi abruptly runs out of breath. "You did all that in _five minutes!?"_

Kirumi shakes her head dismissively. "Please. Your amazement is unwarranted. Completing the task took me exactly two hundred and eighty-seven seconds, only slightly faster than the typical benchmark for professional maid work of this magnitude-"

Shuichi ignores her, his attention drifting to the nearest plate. He apprehensively takes a sandwich from the tray, gingerly nibbling at its corner, before his eyes fly open and he immediately crams the rest of it into his mouth. He doesn't even hesitate before grabbing a slice of cake and devouring it, then biting through half a scone. "Whoa...! These are...!"

Kirumi tilts her head expectantly. "...Well? Do you like it?"

"Do I?" Shuichi sputters in disbelief. "This is _unbelievable!"_

Kirumi frowns. "'Unbelievable,' you say... I assume that is a compliment?" She makes a noise that sounds vaguely like a sigh. "I suppose the engineers at Milky Way Cybernetics will be humbled by your words." She smiles fondly as she says the name. "Yes, indeed," she affirms, "the work of my creators is truly something to behol-"

"Seriously, these are the best I've ever had!" Shuichi ravenously wolfs down the rest of the scone before smiling up at her, eyes shining with excitement. "Kirumi, you're really... you're incredible!"

She blinks. "...I am?" She stands up straight and makes a noise like a cough, clearing her nonexistent throat. "...that is, your praise is sadly misplaced. I am but a mere surrogate for the programming and engineering work of my creators. I suggest you-"

"Are _they_ here, making tea for me?" Shuichi cuts through her words with a perfectly placed counter, raising an eyebrow in skepticism. His unexpected boldness throws Kirumi for a loop and she stumbles over her words. "W-... well, no, but-"

"Then it doesn't matter. I'm sure they're very smart and all, but it's not fair that they get the credit for what you're doing, right here and now." Shuichi nods encouragingly. "I mean, you told me to be more sure of myself, didn't you? I think you could stand to follow a bit of your own advice."

Kirumi stares at him in silence, as if thinking something over. "...is this a request?"

Shuichi's smile disappears. "Wha-... no, I..." Shuichi sighs in defeat, shaking his head. "Yeah. Yeah, sure, if that's what it takes."

Kirumi perks up at the command, placing one hand over her heart. "Of course, Shuichi. I will most certainly take more pride in my abilities, if you so desire. Your wish is my command."

Again with the catchphrase, thinks Shuichi, but he chooses to hold his tongue. He lets out a bashful laugh. "I mean, I... yeah. I'm glad. If anyone deserves to have a little pride, it's you." His mouth twists into a smile despite himself. "Honestly, if I didn't know better, I'd say you could do just about anything."

Kirumi's smile vanishes. "...not _anything..."_ Her voice suddenly takes on a gloomy tone and she hangs her head in shame.

Shuichi blinks. "...did I say something?"

"Indeed," she morosely confirms, "you are correct. Despite my many capabilities... there is one thing that remains forever out of my reach. My greatest shame... as the Ultimate Robot, and the Ultimate Maid." Kirumi shudders.

Shuichi gently sets down his plate and his expression grows serious. He could be touching a nerve here. "Kirumi," he says slowly and apprehensively, "if you don't mind me asking... what is it?"

"...It is..." Her internal fans hum quietly and her cheeks tint a faint red. Her arms drift to her sides and she clutches at the fabric of her dress. _"...konjac."_

Shuichi stares blankly. "... **What."**

"I cannot cut konjac," she mumbles gloomily. "No matter how much instruction I receive, no matter how much data I am given... I can never do it properly." The light in her eye dims slightly. "Such a grievous failure... if someone were to take advantage of it, the results could be disastrous." She sighs. "And to think I call myself a maid..."

Shuichi gawks at her in dumbfounded silence, before his self-control runs out and he bursts out into a hysterical, wheezing laugh.

Kirumi visibly stiffens and glares at him in disgust. "What are you doing? Do you find my failure _amusing?"_

Shuichi's laughter falters as his amusement gives way to worry. He definitely struck a nerve. "Oh! ...no. I just..." his mind races to find the words. "Something like that being your only weakness... it's kind of... _cute!"_ The word pops out before he can stop himself and he immediately gives himself a good mental kick. Him and his big mouth.

 _"...Cute!?"_ She stares at him in disbelief before she whips around, hurriedly rearranging the plates on the tea-tray. "You perplex me, Shuichi," she says quickly, over the intensifying humming of her internal fans, "machines are meant to serve mankind. They are not for your amusement, and they are certainly not _'cute.'"_

Shuichi sighs. "Sure, sure. Okay. I'm... I'm sorry."

"I accept your apology." Kirumi pauses and furtively glances back at him over her shoulder, one hand covering her mouth. "But... if you truly believe that, then... if you are so inclined..."

Shuichi swallows nervously. "Then...?"

Kirumi purses her lips before hurriedly looking away again, taking the tray in both hands. "Nothing. I was merely thinking aloud. A bug in my software, perhaps. Please excuse me." Without waiting for an answer she swiftly makes her way to the door, the porcelain tea set clattering noisily on the tray with every step. 

Just before she reaches the door, she pivots on her heels to face him again, her face stony and unreadable. "Shuichi," she calls out to him in a gravely serious tone.

Shuichi nearly jumps at the mention of his name. "Um... yes?"

"If you would like, you are more than welcome to visit me for tea again," she says dispassionately. "It would be my pleasure to serve you once more." She offers him a stiff final bow before ducking through the doorway, leaving Shuichi alone, staring at the space where the Ultimate Robot had just been.

~+~

Electric connections

That were dormant now ignite

It's like another part of sight

A second eyelid that was closed before

~+~

Shuichi finds himself joining her for tea, time and time again. He doesn't even know why, since she clearly can't partake in any of it herself, but despite the nominal awkwardness of eating and drinking alone while she anxiously waits beside him, he always finds himself coming back for more. 

Maybe it's something she put in the tea. 

But whatever the reason, each time he returns she tells a little more of herself, as naturally and freely as if she were reading a recipe - and sometimes with quite unexpected results. She likes Victorian-era novels, she tells him one day after serving a particularly delicious cake. She parsed ten thousand of them in a single afternoon, analyzing and compiling their contents so that she may better fulfill her duties as a maid. 

Perhaps that's where her stilted language comes from, Shuichi deduces. 

And in return he tells her about himself, too, over flawlessly-made cups of espresso or milk tea. He tells her about the lonely boy abandoned by his well-heeled, famous parents, becoming a detective-in-training in his uncle's employ. About tracking down his classmate's pet alligator, his toil eventually repaid in Valentine's Day chocolate. Even about the media circus surrounding that fateful murder case, catapulting him into stardom even as he grappled with the justice of his actions. And with every story he tells, Kirumi stands by his side, eyes shining with anticipation, hooked on every word he speaks and nodding along, murmuring in fascinated approval.

Again the doubt sounds in the back of his mind that her friendliness is just a ploy, just a clever bit of programming masking an unthinking, unfeeling machine, but he shoves the thought aside and ignores it. He doesn't just want to believe in her, he realizes, but... he trusts her. And with each day he returns, each story they exchange, each time she gives him that well-worn smile and her cheery words of thanks, he feels that trust grow just a little bit deeper.

An idea comes to him one such day over a particularly pleasant cup of earl grey, nestled in the plush lounge chair of the Ultimate Robot lab. He frowns, staring into his tea, finding only his reflection gazing haplessly back at him. "Kirumi?"

"Hm?"

"There's something I was wondering about, with you being... you know, a robot," he begins cautiously. "I don't know if I should be asking this, but..." Shuichi's thought trails off mid-sentence as he is overcome with doubt.

Kirumi shakes her head. "Please, Shuichi. I am hardly one of those individuals who flies into a rage over 'robophobia' or some such nonsense. You are free to speak your mind in my presence, now and always."

 _That's... oddly specific,_ thinks Shuichi, but he chooses not to say anything. He sets his teacup down and draws in a sharp breath. "You always tell us that you never have any opinions or desires to speak of. Is that really true? Don't you ever... want anything?"

She stares at him as if he's speaking a foreign language. "...Want?" She puts a hand to her chin and hums softly. "I want to protect all of you, I suppose. I want to serve everyone here, and all of my masters, to the fullest of my own abilit-"

"That's... not what I meant," Shuichi interrupts, mouth twisting into a sheepish smile. "I mean _other_ than what you're doing now."

Kirumi knits her brows in confusion. "What do you mean?"

"Um..." he wrings his hands as he searches for the words. Why is this so difficult to explain? "Like... something to aspire to, I guess. Like, a dream of yours. Something to hope for."

"Something to aspire to...?" She tilts her head to one side, as if lost in thought, and purses her lips while her neural network steadily works towards an answer. At last with a quiet whirr she turns back to face him, smiling his way with a look of pride. "I think," she says slowly, "one day I would like to be Prime Minister."

Shuichi almost chokes on his tea. He wasn't expecting _that._

"P-... Prime Minister?" he asks, in between fits of coughing. "Isn't that aiming a little _high?"_

Kirumi tilts her head to one side again - a gesture not unlike a cat, Shuichi notes - and frowns. "...How so? I have told you of my many uses and masters before, have I not? Do you believe the task to be beyond my capabilities?"

Shuichi makes a noncommittal sound. "Well, when you put it like that..." He puts a hand to his chin and thinks. "...Yeah. I suppose when so many lives are at stake, it might make sense to trust a machine to make an optimal decision."

"Indeed." Kirumi smiles, looking quite proud. "But my reasoning is less about my mechanical nature and more about... fulfilling my purpose."

"Your... purpose?"

She nods. "You recall, do you not? From when we first met." Kirumi stands to her full height and places one hand on her chest. "I was created for one purpose: to help people," she proclaims, as if giving a speech. "My role is to serve, selflessly and tirelessly, so that I may guide my masters to fulfill their full potential. If I can do so for one, ten, a hundred individuals, then why not a thousand, a million, or the entire world?"

Something about the way she speaks stirs something in Shuichi's heart, and he finds himself powerless to do anything other than stare in awe, lamely fumbling for the right words. "W-well, um, I..."

Eventually he sighs, breaking out in a bashful laugh, as he feels himself begin to smile. "...Sure, why not. Since you can do just about anything, I guess leading a country isn't that far-fetched either."

"Not anything," Kirumi reminds him, in an almost playful lilt. "But... thank you." Kirumi bends down by his side, taking the now-empty teacup and saucer from his grasp. "More tea, I presume?"

"Yeah. If you don't mind." Shuichi tries to smile back, but his question still gnaws at him. "But, still, that makes me think... wanting to help everyone... wanting to be Prime Minister... all of that was for the same reason, right?" He presses her, as gently as he can manage. "Your... purpose? The one your creators gave you."

Kirumi's smile falters. "...and what of it?"

"Nothing, but... it's like I was asking earlier." Shuichi tries to choose his words carefully. "Is that _really_ all you want? Just... doing what you're told?" he presses, despite something shouting at him in his mind that he shouldn't. "It's just that... you're so friendly, so caring, so _human,_ it seems like a waste for you to just be doing people's chores the rest of your life."

Kirumi freezes. Shuichi hears a faint sound of cracking, and he realizes it to be the teacup, the porcelain splintering and breaking in Kirumi's iron-fisted grip. She stares at him, wide-eyed, with a face as if she had just been stabbed in the chest. "There is no higher honor than being a maid," she says slowly, the faintest hint of anger creeping into her voice. "For you to suggest otherwise is... is _unacceptable...!"_

Shuichi winces. "Wait, I... don't think I ever-"

"You think it a 'waste,' correct? You believe I was meant for something more _grandiose?"_ The corner of her mouth twitches and beneath her annoyance she sounds almost _hurt_. "Do you mean to suggest that I have somehow _failed?"_

"N-no!" Shuichi desperately backpedals, now fully on the defensive. "I'd never say something like-"

"I am more than content with my purpose as given, and for you to walk in here and trample over it is so _unbelievably_ rude I don't know even _where_ to begin," she hisses at him. "How... how _dare_ you!?"

"No! I... that's not what I..."

Kirumi scowls and crushes the remains of the teacup in her hand, the ruined bits of tea-stained porcelain falling to the floor. "You... you _disgust_ me, Shuichi Saihara. Have you no respect at all?"

" _Wait!"_ Shuichi splutters. "I'm- I'm _sorry!_ I didn't mean to-"

"I have no intention of humoring your antics _any longer._ You are _more than welcome_ to get your tea somewhere else. _Goodbye,_ Shuichi." She abruptly turns around and stomps out of the room, fuming.

Shuichi reaches a hand out towards her. "Kirumi, _wait-"_

 _"I said **goodbye."**_ She disappears from sight and slams the door shut, the doorframe rattling noisily with the force that only a machine can make.

~+~

What did I say?

I never felt this way before

Is that what they say?

It's a defect in my core

~+~

Kirumi's avoiding him. Shuichi is certain of that now.

He lies on his back atop his austere, uncomfortable bed, staring aimlessly at the dorm's ceiling on the latest of many sleepless nights. If the cold indifference with which she served his meals didn't tip him off, the speed with which she started ducking into doorways or disappearing around corners just to avoid seeing him sure did. He would be awed by her sheer agility, were she not giving him such a cold shoulder.

He rolls onto one side and groans quietly. _What an achievement,_ he thinks bitterly to himself. He must be the first person in the world to be hated by a _robot._ He tries thinking through a few apologies he could give her the next time they meet, but they all ring hollow and insincere in his mind. What would he even be apologizing _for?_ He gloomily shakes his head, grumbling under his breath. None of this makes any damn sense.

"Things were going so _well_ , too..." he mumbles to no one in particular. Machine or not, things felt so... _natural_ in her company. The way she talks to him, how she so smoothly disarms his defenses and eases open his shell... he hadn't realized just how used he'd grown to it all. Without Kirumi's companionship, his life at the Academy feels somehow _empty._ He slaps a hand to his face, silently cursing his own stupidity. Of course he had to go and screw it up. Just one more item on the long list of things he's thrown away.

A sharp rapping noise cuts his brooding short and he nearly jumps out of bed. _What the hell?_ He stares apprehensively at the door, and the rapping sounds again, in the exact same rhythm as the first.

Shuichi sighs and slowly rises to his feet, sleepily stumbling his way to the door. Who is it this time? Is it Kaito, calling him out for training again? But when he throws the door to his dorm room open, he is greeted with the sight of the Ultimate Robot, head bowed apologetically and wearing the most pained, pitiful of faces.

"Shuichi," she says quietly, one hand delicately resting on her chest. "May we talk? In private, that is."

Shuichi stares at her, dumbfounded, his mouth moving but no sound coming out. "...Yes, of course," he hears himself say, slowly stepping out of her way. "Come on in." It isn't until she steps inside, easing the door shut behind her, that he realizes that this may not be a good idea. Whether she's a robot or not, if word got out that he was alone with a girl in his room, he'd never hear the end of it from Miu. Or worse, from _Kokichi._

Kirumi seems to have no such reservations. Looking furtively from side to side, as if confirming that they are indeed alone, she lowers her head in a stiff, formal bow. "I apologize, Shuichi," she recites in that practiced synthetic tone, hanging her head half in respect, half in shame. "My outburst the other day was... uncalled for."

Shuichi pauses. So _that's_ what this was about? He closes his eyes and sighs, scratching at his neck. "No, don't... worry about it. Really, I should be sorry instead. I-"

"That is not all," she interrupts, not even acknowledging his apology. "As much as it pains me to admit... I have lied to you."

"...Lied?" Shuichi blinks. "What do you mean?"

"My purpose... my true purpose... was not to be a servant, nor was it to be the perfect maid." She shudders at the admission, as if remembering something unpleasant, before her eyes meet his and her voice drops to a gravely serious murmur.

Milky Way Cybernetics, K1-series automata, she tells him. The culmination of decades of work for countless roboticists, programmers, and trillions of yen from impatient investors. The end goal? The invention of the world's first learning machine, the ancient fantasy of the universal robot - one that lived, grew, and thought as humans do, indeed human in all but name. Through tireless research, the machines they built mastered locomotion, dexterity, speech, and thinking - but one final hurdle remained: _emotion._

The question bedeviled even their most ingenious programmers and made the engineers want to tear their hair out. How could a machine ever hope to capture the myriad expressions of the human soul? How could one possibly encapsulate in logic the utterly illogical? In time, a decision was finally made. The way to create a truly human machine was the same way the K1 series gained the capacity to do everything else - by learning.

Eight emotions hard-coded into the memory banks, each with pre-installed facial expressions and tones of voice, with capacity for up to two hundred and forty-eight more - and even then there were countless arguments as to whether this was enough. But it was all pointless, Kirumi laments, bitterness and self-loathing coloring her voice, none of it mattered in the end. In the years since her initial activation, even the much-lauded flagship model, serial number K1-RUM1, failed to learn or recognize a single new emotion. 

The executives and investors were not so pleased, of course. After the vast sums of time and money that had gone into her creation, they were hardly willing to give up now. But, as someone in the boardroom so keenly observed, her detachment, her stoicness, her slavish devotion to fulfilling her tasks... they were not without their uses. And so her failure was made permanent, her chronic lack of emotion coupled with an unswerving obedience and self-sacrifice - Model K1-RUM1's greatest flaw, transformed into her greatest feature. She was no longer labelled a broken human, but rather, the ideal servant.

"That is my secret, Shuichi," she tells him, her hands balling into fists as they clutch at the fabric of her dress. "The one they call the Ultimate Robot is, in fact, defective." She raises her head to look at him, stone-faced and unmoving. 

"Kirumi..."

She flinches at the mention of her name. "...What is it? Are you perhaps disappointed?"

"No, not at all. But... so that's why you..." Shuichi suddenly cringes remembering his questoning of her the other day. Not only did he suggest that she was wasting her talent by being a maid, he had the nerve to call her _human..._! No _wonder_ she felt like he was mocking her!

"I'm... oh, _God_ , I... I'm so sorry, I should have _thought_ before I..." his throat runs dry and he briefly considers dropping to all fours and begging forgiveness instead. "I... I really shouldn't have-"

"That's quite enough of that." Kirumi silences him with a wave of her hand. "You had no way of knowing. Rest assured, Shuichi, none of this is your fault. I should not have been so overtly sensitive, nor should I have concerned you with... this. Any of this." She shakes her head dismissively, and Shuichi hears a faint hint of sadness buried in every word. "The weight of my failure... is mine to bear alone."

A wave of relief washes over him, but something still gnaws at Shuichi's mind. "But..." He takes a step closer to her and swallows nervously. "I just don't think it's fair... making you carry all that by yourself."

"...Pardon?"

"I mean... did you ask for any of this? All those expectations, all those hopes riding on your shoulders? Whether you were 'meant' for it or not, being the Ultimate Robot... it's not all you're good for." Shuichi pauses as he searches for his next words. "It's not _your_ fault they don't see you as anything other than their product. They don't see the girl who makes the best tea in the world, or looks so tirelessly after everyone, or loves reading old romance novels, or...!" Something in his chest starts to ache, but he forces it out of his mind and continues on. "I don't know how to make you realize... but no one here thinks you're a failure. To everyone else... to _me.._. you're nothing short of wonderful." He stares into the ground and he feels himself begin to smile. "So that's why... I couldn't just stand by and let you say things like that. I..."

"...Shuichi?" Kirumi's voice shakes him out of his monologue and he raises his eyes to meet hers. He finds her staring at him with widened eyes, her cheeks lighting up in a dull electric red. "...What are you doing?"

He looks down again and finds his hands firmly placed atop hers. His eyes go wide and his heart seizes up in his chest. _"... **Gah!"**_ He recoils from her, raising his hands defensively, feeling heat rapidly rushing to his face. "Oh, I'm- _I'm sorry!_ I didn't mean to..." he backs further away and collapses back onto the bed, one hand bashfully tugging at his bangs. "I mean... personal space, right? Geez, I really... I really shouldn't have-"

"Shuichi." Kirumi's voice cuts through the noise and silences him in an instant. She moves closer to the bed, kneeling down before him and raising her gloved hands to his, giving them a reassuring squeeze. "Do you find this gesture... comforting?"

"Well... um, no, it's just..." Shuichi looks away and stammers hopelessly. In the corner of his eye he can still see Kirumi staring up at him, patiently waiting for an answer. He sighs and tries to steady his voice. "Um... y-yeah, I... I do..."

Kirumi parses his words for a second or two before nodding in approval. "While I cannot say I understand... if it puts your mind at ease, then..." she bows her head and squeezes his hands tighter.

Shuichi bites his tongue, trying not to yelp or laugh nervously or think any more than he has to about how close she is, or how her hands feel so warm to the touch, so warm, _warm, why are her hands so warm aren't robots supposed to be cold-_

"Shuichi," she says suddenly, "if I may speak freely?"

Shuichi snaps out of his trance. "S-sure, but, Kirumi, you don't need permission to speak around m-"

"This may be out of line," she murmurs softly, "but... thank you."

"...Huh?" Shuichi squirms uneasily. "Me?"

"For your... reassurance. I may have taken offense at your words the other day, but... as imperceptive as I am, even I can tell you only have my best interests in mind." Kirumi's voice grows softer and her gaze falls to the floor. "No one has ever... talked to me like this. As anything other than the maid I claim to be. Why... is that?" She squeezes his hands tighter. "You keep coming for me, Shuichi, when everyone else is content to leave me with their chores... why do you do that?" She looks him in the eye again, her face solidifying with determination. "You confuse and perplex me, but you also... _fascinate_ me. I want to know you better... not as the Ultimate Robot or even the Ultimate Maid, but as your friend. Because I..." her face shines a dull red again and she pulls her hands away from him. "...No. It is nothing..."

Shuichi's curiosity gets the better of him. "Wait! What were you- what were you about to say?"

Kirumi folds her hands and frowns. "It is not important. I-"

" _Tell me,"_ Shuichi pleads, and Kirumi's body goes rigid and stiff at the order.

"...Your wish is my command." The acknowledgement comes out slowly, almost forced. "It was... about this attachment to you. I cannot claim to comprehend, but it is... _unlike_ my other obligations. Different from the bond I shared with all my past masters. If my assessment is correct, it would mean..."

Shuichi gulps and starts to sweat again. "It would mean...?"

Kirumi hesitates, her words escaping from her lips in a mere whisper. "I believe I may be-"

A loud _ping_ drowns out Kirumi's words. She freezes, as if suddenly remembering something. "...Ah. I am scheduled to clean the dorm rooms in three hundred seconds. I am afraid I must be going." She hurriedly stands to her full height again, ignoring Shuichi's protests as she makes her way to the door. She twists the doorknob and pushes the door open, but just before The corners of her mouth curl upwards, in the tiniest, most adorable smile that spears straight through Shuichi's heart, and then she's gone, the dorm room fast falling back into an eerie silence.

Only then does Shuichi realize that he's been holding his breath. He collapses backwards onto his bed, the breath rushing from his lungs in a sudden and dramatic sigh, and one hand drifts lamely to his forehead, as warm to the touch as a furnace. "What..." he hears himself mumble aloud, "...was _that?"_ He tries thinking through things logically, as only the Ultimate Detective can, but the mere thought of that smile of hers clouds his mind with a dense, impenetrable fog, and all his deductions are rendered for naught. It still makes no sense... why is it he keeps returning to her side? Why does the sound of her voice lure him in like the song of a siren? Why can't he just stop _thinking_ about her?

His face flushes red and he clamps a hand over his mouth, staring intently into the ceiling and trying desperately to ignore his rapidly rising heart rate. "Don't be ridiculous," he hears himself say, but he knows it's already too late. But why him? Why her?

How could he be falling for the goddamn _robot maid?_

~+~

Oh, I'm shutting down  


Shutting down, shutting down my brain  


I feel it now, feel it now  


This seductive pain

~+~

Separately, the Ultimate Robot hurriedly ducks into her dorm room and slams the door behind her. Ironic, isn't it. She met with Shuichi to apologize for lying to him, and yet her parting words were also a lie. She _didn't_ have to go clean, not really. At least she'd somewhat enjoy that. No, her reason for leaving was far less pleasant.

She slumps against the wall and slowly sinks to the floor. She turns her attention to the flashing red icon in the corner of her vision, a rather harmless-looking exclamation point circumscribed by a circle. The icon blows up in her mind's eye, morphing into the outline of a terminal, a large blob of meaningless technobabble filling it from corner to corner. In the endless sea of useless logs and debug statements, her metaphorical stomach churns at the sight of a familiar line of output.

> W20XX0603 09:52:26 - WARNING: Directive d0510_selfless_devotion violated. System stability may be affected.

"Not _again,"_ she whispers, forcing the terminal aside with the weak wave of her hand. That damnable warning just won't leave her alone. Worse still, it always fires in those moments she so treasures - making tea for Shuichi, hearing his stories, or, worse still, when she takes his hand in her own, that mysterious feeling of warmth sullied by the noisy pinging of alarms only she can hear. It fires again each time she invites him to join her again, again when she urges him to believe in himself, again when she smiles at him every day and warmly bids him farewell.

The implication is obvious. She is straying from her duty.

An unfamiliar feeling washes over her, one that makes her feel light in the head and unsteady in her balance, one with no documented entry in her memory banks. What could it be? An unfortunate glitch, perhaps, or even some kind of virus? She grits her teeth in anger and clenches a fist at her side in a white-knuckle grip. Something is wrong. Something is obviously wrong with her. But how, she wants to shout? How can it be wrong, when being near him feels so... _right?_

~+~

I know it's wrong

And the warning keeps flashing bright

I don't know which pain to listen to

Is it feeling, or being right?

~+~

"Shuichi," Kirumi begins, her voice calming and placating yet concealing a pointed edge. "Have you been avoiding me?"

Shuichi awkwardly skids to a halt, having failed to hide behind the hallway's support column. "No, I... I'd never do _that!_ " He breaks out in a cold sweat and his mouth runs dry. 

"Is that so," she says in a monotone voice. Her disappointment is palpable. Despite Shuichi's best efforts to keep a straight face he can see her eyes boring into him, emanating an aura of skepticism and contempt. 

He closes his eyes and sighs. "I... I'm sorry, I've just been a little busy these days. I-" 

"Busy with _what."_ She presses him immediately.

"U-um, that's..." Shuichi struggles to come up with a convincing excuse. "...investigating?" Damn, he's a terrible liar.

She purses her lips in disapproval, clearly unconvinced. "That is hardly a satisfactory explanation. Perhaps... I have done something to offend you?"

"N-... no. That's... not it." Shuichi grimaces and averts his eyes, hoping to whatever god will listen that she doesn't pick up on his increasingly obvious blush.

"Then why have you been..." Kirumi frowns in concern, taking a step closer to him. "Shuichi, you appear to be developing a temperature. Are you unwell?" She reaches out a hand and presses it to his forehead, questioning him in that same worried, motherly tone. "Would you like me to carry you to b-"

"N- _no!"_ Shuichi panics and swats her hand away, staggering backwards as his heart skips a beat. "That's not it either!"

"Then what is it?" she demands. "Surely there must be _some_ reason for such a marked change in behavior." The annoyance leaves her voice and she sighs softly. "Is this... some form of retaliation for my earlier actions? I understand if you are upset, but even so, I..."

Shuichi's stomach churns uneasily. Oh, great. Now she's blaming herself, too. "Listen, I... I just..." he sighs and hangs his head, staring glumly at his feet. "I'm sorry, but I can't tell you. Not yet."

Kirumi stares at him intently, and even without seeing her face Shuichi can feel her eyes boring into him. At last she shakes her head, letting out a sigh of her own. "...Very well. While I cannot claim to understand, I suppose this is for the best."

Something about the phrase fills Shuichi with dread. "' _For the best?'_ What are you talking about?"

Kirumi stands up straight, her pose stiff and militaristic. "I intended to inform you sooner, but I have received... complaints from the others. Failure to make some of my regular appointments. Unsatisfactory speed of delivering meals or making tea." She shudders at the memory, one hand balling into a fist. "I am afraid the cause is obvious. Lest I continue to fail you as a maid... I must sever all our ties."

Shuichi's heart drops into his stomach. "...huh?" He shakes his head and stares up at her in shock. _" **What!?** Why?"_

"All instances of my failure have one thing in common," she says ruefully. "Proximity to you."

Shuichi freezes in place. "I... _what...?"_

"Every time I think of you, every time I see you, something... _changes_ in me," she continues, her eye cast downward in shame. "My tasks, my obligations, my duties... they all become corrupted and unreadable, and I only want... to serve you. To be near you." She places a hand to where her heart would be and sighs. "To neglect my duties in such a way is truly unacceptable. This must be related to what I told you the other day... my... _attachment._ " She pauses, as if in doubt. "I have consulted my memory banks, and re-compiled every novel I have read," she says matter-of-factly. "I could not understand before, but this feeling... this _infatuation..._ every protagonist of those stories seemed to experience the same thing. Analyzing the phrases they use to describe this phenomenon, the end result converges to but a single word."

"In-... _infatuation?_ That's..." The realization strikes Shuichi like a bullet and his eyes fly wide open. "Wait, you-!? What are you _saying-!?"_

"While I cannot be certain, I..." Kirumi's sentence dies on her lips as she hesitates. When she speaks again, each syllable comes out slow and tortured. "I think I may be in love with you."

Time seems to slow to a crawl as Shuichi feels his heart stop. That... that _can't_ be it. There's no _way_ he heard that right. Is this just some cruel joke? He stops and starts, powerless to say anything, but the way she stares so longingly, one hand on her chest and heartache carved into her features, crushes all remaining doubt.

Kirumi's face darkens at his lack of a response. She quietly searches his face, trying futilely to discern the meaning behind his widened eyes, his reddening face, the way he wrings his hands and chokes on his words. "Well?" She demands, bitterness coloring her every word. "Are you disappointed?"

"But I... I don't..." Shuichi puts a hand to his mouth as he fishes desperately for his next words. " _That's_ why you want to cut ties!? That doesn't... that doesn't make any _sense!"_

Kirumi sighs. "I had hoped you wouldn't say that." Her hands drift to her sides and grab at her dress as she stares at her feet in dismay. "My orders... my _purpose..._ is to serve those who depend upon my support. To chase meaningless, arbitrary desires... to _abandon_ my duties... is not only unbecoming, but... _unforgivable."_ The glow in her eye grows dimmer still, as if her very soul is leaving her. "I have failed in my mission," she whispers, looking more small and weak than Shuichi ever would have thought possible. "I have strayed from my purpose. Before the damage is made permanent, I have no choice but to leave." She purses her lips and lowers her head. "My failure... must be corrected."

"Don't..." Shuichi whispers in a weak voice. Suddenly his temper flares and before he can stop himself he reaches out and grabs her shoulders. _"Don't **talk** like that!"_

Kirumi's limbs lock up and she makes a sound like a gasp. "Shuichi, what do you think you're-"

"You're always doing that... playing the part of the perfect maid. Always looking after everyone, always working yourself to the bone, but..." His eyes fall to the floor with a pained grimace. "You never want anything in return... you never _let_ yourself want anything. Why? Why do you do that?"

"Because I _must,"_ she says without thinking, almost automatically. "My orders, my directive... they must be fulfilled." The words leave her mouth, yet they sound forced and unnatural, as if someone else is speaking in her voice. "This is the course of action I chose for mys-"

"That _can't_ be it!" Shuichi cuts her off, his voice rising to a near-shout. "You told me your feelings, after all this time, _just_ so you can never have them answered? Did you really do all that, just to follow a _directive?_ " Shuichi pauses for breath, exasperated. "Don't you _want_ your feelings returned?"

 _I do_ , Kirumi wants to respond, but before she can make a sound something seizes up inside her, as if she hit some kind of wall, forcing her into silence and leaving her starting and stopping helplessly. "I... but I... I can't..."

"It's just not _fair..._ you listen to my stories, you lend me your shoulder... you _cared_ about me. So why..." His hold on her sleeves falters and his eyes fall to the floor. "Why won't you let me do the same for you?"

"You don't _understand,"_ she insists, the formality abruptly dropped from her voice. "I failed in my original duty... I should've been left on the scrap heap! But they gave me a second chance... a chance for redemption! Being a maid is _all_ I have! Because... _because..._ " She shakes off his grip, taking a step back and stiffly standing to attention once more. She raises a hand to her chest in an attempted salute, but even she fails to hide the tremors in her movements or the look of pain across her face. "I am Milky Way Cybernetics, Model K1-RUM1! The Ultimate Robot, and the illustrious Ultimate Maid! Serving others is my sole reason for being! If I stray from that, I have _nothing!"_ Her hand falls to her side and she stifles a simulated sniffle. "If I stay with you, then I will be nothing but... _defective..."_ the words comes out in an anguished whimper.

Shuichi draws in a shaky breath. So this is the extent of her own self-loathing. She still won't accept her own feelings, even when confessing them to him. He has no other choice, he realizes, one hand clenching into a fist at his side. He'll cut through the lies and reveal the truth. Just like always.

"It doesn't matter what your creators want," Shuichi declares. "You said so yourself, you're not their toy or their slave. You're... _you_." He takes a deep breath and one hand flies to his heart. "Intentional or not, 'unbecoming' or not, your feelings for me are _never_ something to be ashamed of! I won't let you talk that way! Not when..." his breath hitches and he stumbles over his words. No turning back now. "Not when I have those same feelings too!"

The lens of her one visible eye goes wide with shock. "Shuichi?"

"I admit, at first I wasn't sure I could trust you. I wasn't sure if I could trust a... a _machine._ But you showed me, Kirumi, that you were so much more than that." He reaches out and wraps his fingers around hers, pulling her gloved hand gently closer. " _That's_ the Kirumi I know - not the Ultimate Robot, not even the Ultimate Maid, but the one who opened her heart to me. The one I could call my friend. The one I... fell in love with." He draws slowly closer, his grip tightening on her hand. He slowly raises his head, so close that his lips almost brush hers. She stares back at him in silence, eyes wide and lips parted in surprise, until Shuichi feels her free hand close around his, mechanical digits weakly trembling.

"Shuichi... are you... are you sure? Is it really okay...?" Her question comes out in a feeble, high-pitched tone, on the verge of fading into a whisper. "For me to feel this way? To be so... _selfish?_ "

Shuichi nods, raising a hand to her face. He gently runs his thumb over her cheek, as if wiping away tears, and he feels the gentle warmth emanating from beneath her soft, synthetic skin. "It's more than okay," he whispers, before his hand drifts to the small of her back and pulls her closer still. "If your feelings are 'selfish,' then maybe... we can be selfish together." His mouth curls into a sad smile. "...Right?"

And with that one final push, the wall of her programming shatters.

She lets out a pained noise and collapses into his arms, pulling him into a hug as her emotions overwhelm her. "Why...?" She whispers, burying her head in his shoulder. "Why do I...? Why is this happening to me?"

Shuichi gently shushes her, giving her back a gentle pat. "Don't worry. It's... it's okay."

"I know I shouldn't... I know it's wrong, but..." Kirumi whimpers. "I am infatuated with you... I _love_ you!" She sobs into his arms, holding him tight in a vice grip, her synthetic voice cracking and breaking apart. She pulls him closer, closer still, consumed with the sensation of his arms around her back, the way his chest rises and falls with the slow rhythm of his breathing. And one by one, the warnings and errors fade away, their incessant pinging and beeping fading to a low distant hum. For the first time in her short life, the Ultimate Robot feels something new in the depths of her artificial heart, an unused circuit slowly flickering to life. A warm, pulsating feeling, that threatens with every cycle of her processor to overwhelm her nerves and consume her whole. The holy grail her creators so desperately sought, that had until now so stubbornly remained out of her reach.

_Love._

"I love you, Shuichi," she whispers again, the words resonating in the depths of her synthetic soul. "I... I _love you."_ Shuichi says nothing, softly breathing out as he tightens his embrace, closing his eyes and filling his mind with the warmth of her body and the distant hum of her electrics. The scene feels so strange, so _bizarre_ , yet with her nestled so delicately in his arms, nothing feels more natural. Nothing feels more _right_. As if they were always meant to be - one man, one machine, brought together in a greater, unified whole.

~+~

I wasn't supposed to

discover data I could use

Where did it come from?

A simple look? A tender touch?

These bodies are so weak  


But so soft and assuring  


So brazen when they speak  


But I feel something stirring  


~+~

> MILKY WAY CYBERNETICS CORP.
> 
> Reinitializing System  
> Running DGRP Kernel V3.0.0  
> System Parameters.... OK  
> Scanning for tDGRP signal.... Done.  
> Reauthenticating w/ Fujisaki VPN  
> Validating Vitals.... Done.  
> Calibrating Audiovisual Sensory Inputs.... Done.  
> Initializing Mitarai Expression Suite... Done.  
> Populating Behavior Directive Invariants... **ERROR**  
>   
>  Traceback: in directive d0154_ssaihara:  
> I20XX0607 03:17:24 - INFO: Directive created: d0154_ssaihara - Protect Shuichi Saihara.  
> E20XX0607 03:17:24 - ERROR: Potential merge conflict with directive d0510_selfless_devotion. Resolve the conflict before proceeding. System stability may be affected.  
>   
> This incident will be reported.  
> 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll be blunt, I don't like this chapter all that much. I really had to force myself to finish it. I spent two weeks on it, it's way too long, and it's still *half* of the length it was originally going to be. Perhaps I should have made this a standalone fic. Wait, that sounds familiar...
> 
> I'm not 100% sure what the point of this chapter was. But I saw someone write in a Reddit post that, in some sense, it's Kirumi, not Keebo, who's really the Ultimate Robot, because of her slavish obedience to her orders and how coldly she's willing to sacrifice or betray others to fulfill her mission. Her brief character arc in V3, the way I see it, is kind of a conflict between Kirumi's own personal interests and desires, few and far between though they are, and her unswerving commitment to becoming the perfect maid. Making her an actual robot? Makes it a bit more literal. So perhaps it underscores a part of Kirumi's character that most V3 players probably don't see.
> 
> Boy, that last error message is ominous, isn't it? There may or may not be a part two to this. Leaning more towards the "not" side of things, just from how much of a pain this chapter was to write. Time to move on to shorter - and cuter! - things.


	12. My Little Friend

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With the weight of all her constant chores, Kirumi has barely any time to spend with the Ultimate Detective. Getting increasingly lonely during her long working hours, with a little help from Tsumugi she finds a convenient solution in the form of a tiny, adorable Shuichi-shaped plushie.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A shorter one this time. This is honestly the most out-of-character thing I've ever written, which is honestly an accomplishment. Enjoy!

Kirumi stares stone-faced at the toy resting in her hands, eyes poring over its features and lips pursed in a skeptical frown. The still form of a tiny, Shuichi-shaped plushie stares back at her through unmoving button eyes, an apparent gift courtesy of the Ultimate Cosplayer. 

It feels almost wrong somehow, making a likeness of the Ultimate Detective without his permission, but it simply can't be helped. With how busy her work makes her these days, she barely gets to see Shuichi at all - or anyone else, for that matter. She'd never complained about it before, of course - out of sight, out of mind is how every maid should strive to operate - but only after growing close to the Ultimate Detective did she ever realize just how lonely her job is, often going nearly the entire day without ever seeing another human being. 

Kirumi had to muster all of her courage even just to ask Tsumugi to make the damn thing, not to mention the copious bribe the cosplayer had extracted from her as payment. Kirumi stifles a groan at the memory - promising not to clean up Tsumugi's grotesquely large and _horridly_ disorganized manga collection went against every instinct Kirumi had as a maid, but, she reasons, looking back at the prize resting in her hands, what she had received in exchange was surely worth it. 

The doll's figure is dominated by its cartoonishly large head, sporting Shuichi's unruly mop of black hair and a pair of cute oversized button eyes stitched onto its face. A tiny cowlick curls upwards from its head, springing back into place whenever the doll moves - just like the real thing, Kirumi notes with a smile. Indeed, the attention to detail is superb - every last quirk of Shuichi's, from the pinstripes on his outfit to the twin rows of buttons down his front to even his distinctive eyelashes, is flawlessly replicated in adorable plushie form. 

Kirumi nods with approval as she looks over the doll again. She raises her head and hurriedly looks left and right, to make doubly sure no one is spying on her in the privacy of her dorm, before her smile grows wider and she scoops up the plushie in a tight, inescapable hug. She squeezes it tight and suppresses a giggle, slowly twirling in circles around the floor of her lab in a crude imitation of a waltz. She nuzzles the tiny Shuichi again. No substitute for the real thing, perhaps, but it'll do.

The clock at the end of the room chimes, shaking her out of her reverie. Ah, that's right. She promised she'd deliver some milk tea for Kokichi in exactly fifteen minutes. No time to waste. She gently tucks the plush Shuichi into her breast pocket, leaving his arms and oversized head dangling out in the open. Like a young kangaroo in its pouch, she notes bemusedly. With a newfound spring in her step she sets course for the dining hall kitchen, her little companion with her every step of the way.

~+~

The kitchen sits in near-total darkness when Kirumi arrives. Flicking on a light switch, she places the doll atop the kitchen shelf, watching it lazily slump over to one side. _Adorable,_ she thinks, mouth curling into a smile. Satisfied, she steps over to the cupboard and begins leafing through its contents in search of the right variety of tea.

"Shuichi" watches over her while she makes her afternoon tea, staring wordlessly through black button eyes. Kirumi hears herself start to hum a gentle melody as she puts some water on the boil -despite the mini-Shuichi's unmoving and lifeless demeanor, already the kitchen feels somehow more alive with his company, the lonely work of the Ultimate Maid gaining a newfound warmth and light. 

Barely a few minutes later the tea is ready, with a veritable mountain of scones and cakes to accompany it. Her tea-tray now full to the edges, Kirumi returns to the shelf and retrieves her companion, softly cradling him in her arms. She gently sets him down on a nearby table and slides a spare teacup in his direction, easing it along with a gentle push. "Would you care for some more tea, Master Shuichi?" she asks, in a playful, sing-song lilt. Her guest doesn't respond, staring emotionlessly at the tea as only a doll can. Kirumi raises a hand to her lips and giggles softly. "My, as shy as ever, I see. Is something the matter?"

The doll maintains its silence, but somehow seems to slump further forward. Kirumi sighs and gives it a gentle pat on its head, its tiny felt cowlick springing upwards as soon as she removes her hand.

"...I see. Perhaps you require some privacy? Very well, I will leave you to enjoy your tea in peace." She leans down to the doll and plants a gentle kiss on its forehead, beaming warmly as she gives its head an affectionate rub. "Do not worry, I shall return soon." 

The thought creeps into the back of her head that she's being immature. Seriously? Playing with dolls, at _her_ age? She banishes the thought as she makes her way out of the dining hall, setting a course for the Ultimate Supreme Leader's dorm with his afternoon tea close at hand. Unprofessional or not, surely she can allow herself a little fun... right? 

~+~

Somehow, serving Kokichi turned out to be even less pleasant than usual. Nearly an hour of extremely trivial, petty requests, not to mention his constant back-handed remarks of _"Thank you, Mom,"_ or something similarly insulting. It was nothing short of a miracle that Kirumi managed to get through the ordeal without snapping and strangling the little gremlin on the spot - and the sheer strength of will it had required left her feeling physically and mentally drained.

She trudges back to the kitchen, head hanging in exhaustion. She definitely needs to recharge. But, alas, she has no time to track down Shuichi and demand that he give her a hug - no, her duty as a maid compels her to tidy the dormitories for the rest of the afternoon instead. Fortunately, however, her substitute is close at hand. Her spirits rise as she pushes open the old oak doors to the dining hall, heading to the kitchen to retrieve her miniature companion.

Something atop the kitchen table catches her eye, and she realizes it to be the teacup she left earlier by the doll's side. She smiles at the sight, fondly reminiscing on her impromptu tea party from earlier, but when she steps closer to retrieve the teacup her smile quickly vanishes.

"Shuichi" is gone.

The color slowly drains from Kirumi's face as realization sets in. _Where? **Where is he?!**_ She flies around the kitchen in a mad panic, throwing open the cupboards, yanking out all the drawers, and peering under every table in a furious blur. No use. Her cute little toy has vanished into thin air.

Sweat drips down her forehead and her hands wring helplessly at her sides. _Calm down,_ she tells herself, one hand flying to her chest as she tries to calm her fast-beating heart, _think this through rationally._ Her hand drifts to her chin as she tries thinking over the possibilities. Did someone clean the doll up by mistake? _Impossible_ , she deduces, no one else would want to clean the kitchen but her. Did she simply misplace it somewhere? _Ridiculous_ , she snaps at herself. No self-respecting Ultimate Maid would ever dare forget something so precious! Did Monokuma confiscate it, mistaking it for a piece of litter? Or perhaps...

Her mind clouds with rage as she thinks of the Ultimate Supreme Leader's snide smirking face, giggling loudly in that insufferable _nee-heehee_ of his as he holds poor little Shuichi prisoner. Her heart breaks and her hands ball into fists just thinking about him trapped in that _fiend's_ claws, silently crying out, _help me, Kirumi! Save me!_

She gnashes her teeth as she struggles to understand. _How?_ How could Kokichi have _possibly_ beaten her back to the kitchen? Was this his plan all along? Was that the reason he requested tea from her in the first place, just to lure her away? Just to take advantage of her kindness and make her miserable? Her fists clench tighter and her vision goes red. That horrid little man! _How dare he? How **dare** he!?_

Her anger fades as her steel-trap mind kicks into action, calmly calculating a plan of attack. She'll have to force her way into Kokichi's dorm room, under the pretense of a "routine cleaning." It'll be hard to conduct a thorough search without arousing suspicion, but nothing is too hard for the illustrious Ultimate Maid. She hasn't a clue what kind of devious tricks might be waiting for her in Kokichi's lair, or whether he'll even surrender his new toy once she confronts him. For all she knows, the whole thing could be a trap.

She grits her teeth and suppresses a scowl. What choice does she have? Shuichi must be saved.

"Hang on, Shuichi," she hears herself say out loud, her voice taking on a pointed, venomous edge. "I'm coming for you." She bolts out of the kitchen and makes a beeline for Kokichi's room, a furious blur threatening to destroy any who stand in her way.

~+~

Kokichi's dorm is mercifully empty by the time Kirumi arrives, the maid all but boiling over with rage, but it makes no difference in the end. After turning every last box, book, and trinket in Kokichi's dorm upside down, searching high and low through his incredibly cluttered room for any sign of her precious doll, Kirumi ends up completely empty-handed.

 _Impossible_ , she mutters under her breath, rolling up her sleeves and searching every corner of Kokichi's room for the umpteenth time. Could he just have hidden it somewhere she hasn't checked? She scours every last nook and cranny, meticulously searching for any trace of a hidden door, a secret safe, anywhere where he might be hiding his captive. But all her efforts are for naught, leaving her wringing her empty hands in dismay, feeling pathetic and utterly powerless.

Maybe it wasn't Kokichi after all, she ponders. At last she chooses to wave the white flag, retreating from Kokichi's dorm and moving on to the others. She searches tirelessly through Kiyo's room, then Himiko's, then Gonta's, then Kaede's, through the rooms of _anyone_ who might conceivably have an interest in a tiny Shuichi-shaped doll. But despite her best efforts, all but tearing their dorms apart before meticulously putting them back together, she finds no trace of her poor, lost little Shuichi. 

She sighs as she exits Kaito's room, easing the door shut behind her. It's no use. Her little pet is gone forever. She grits her teeth, her grip tightening on her well-worn feather duster, as she wordlessly curses herself for her failure. She's searched all the rooms now... save for one, but she knows better than to expect to find anything _there_. She glumly shakes her head and stifles a second sigh. Oh, well. She already cleaned most people's dorm rooms already. She may as well finish the job. She turns around, heads back down the dormitory stairs, and makes her way to Shuichi's door, her failure making the task all the more painful. 

Her heart pangs at the sight of the Shuichi-shaped pixel sprite acting as a nameplate over the door. How can she ever face him now? She had promised that she'd protect him forever, that she'd become his shield against all who would do him harm. If she couldn't even protect a toy in his image, how could she ever hope to protect the real thing? She glumly pushes the door to Shuichi's room open, hanging her head with a weary sigh, but once she steps inside her heart stops cold at the familiar sight waiting within.

The plush Shuichi sits happily atop the bedside table, slumped against the back wall, but to its side Kirumi spies a second doll, its hand happily linked with the first's. Inching closer, she studies "Shuichi's" new companion in more detail - taller, for one, with a little band of black crowning its head of silver felt. This doll has only one eye, the other apparently hidden away beneath the hair covering its face, and it seems to be wearing a dress, the squiggly outline of a spiderweb drawn atop the fabric in some kind of marker.

Kirumi swallows nervously as she raises a hand to the suspicious plushie. _Is that supposed to be... me?_

The two dolls sit hand in hand, each one leaning against the other, and across their laps lies a white paper envelope, adorned with a cutesy heart-shaped seal. Kirumi picks it up and examines it curiously. No signature, no address. But she does spot the words _To Kirumi_ written across its front. She frowns - was this letter left here for her to find? Gingerly she slides a finger under the flap of the envelope and eases it open, pulling out the intricately folded letter contained within. She narrows her eyes at the top of the page and begins to read:

_Kirumi,_

_Tsumugi gave me this doll of you as a present the other day. She told me you had commissioned her to make the first one, so she made me another one as "part of the set."_

Kirumi scowls. That harpy! She _knew_ she couldn't trust her to keep a secret! She manages to resist the urge to crush the letter in her grip long enough to read the rest of its contents.

_I found this in the kitchen when I was looking for you earlier today. Sorry I didn't tell you sooner, but I was worried you had lost it. I knew you would come to clean my room sooner or later anyway, so I thought it'd be best to leave the two here for you to find. After all, these two were probably meant to be together... right?_

Kirumi purses her lips. So she walked right into Shuichi's trap... is she really that predictable? She shakes her head, grumbling, as she continues reading the letter.

_And on that note, I'm guessing you had this little guy made because you couldn't get enough of the real thing (sorry!) I know I'm asking a lot, but... maybe you should consider taking the evening off one of these days. It's not that I don't appreciate all you do for us, but it's okay to look after yourself sometimes too. Besides, I-_

The next several words are messily scribbled out, splotches of black ink almost completely coating every letter. Kirumi squints and brings the letter closer to her face, and somehow manages to make out the phrase _want to spend more time with you_ from within the inky haze. Further down the page she finds the replacement phrase:

_I want you to be able to relax. So don't push yourself too hard, okay?_

_Shuichi_

Kirumi sighs, neatly folding the letter away and tucking it into her pocket. Oh, Shuichi. Even in writing, he still can't overcome his bashfulness. The image enters her mind of Shuichi hunched over his desk, pen trembling in his white-knuckle grip, scribbling out his embarrassing words with one hand while covering his blushing, beet-red face with the other. But, she admits, a slight blush of her own creeping onto her face, she'd be lying if she said she didn't find that side of him at least a _little_ endearing. 

She hums quietly in amusement. "I suppose I could afford to humor him ... _just this once, of course,"_ she quickly reminds herself. She adjusts her headdress and dusts off her pinafore, preparing to depart. But first...

She smiles and reaches out to each of the dolls, giving each an affectionate pat on the head, before taking the mini-Kirumi in one hand and guiding it to the other doll's cheek in a silent kiss. 

_"Mwah,"_ she says aloud, in a higher-pitched imitation of her own voice. _"I love you, Master Shuichi."_

Though the other doll doesn't react Kirumi can almost see its cheeks lighting up in an imaginary blush. She reaches out and arranges the dolls' arms a little more, pivoting the two until they face each other perfectly, before she nods in satisfaction and makes her retreat, disappearing once more in search of Shuichi - the real one this time. 

The door swings closed with a quiet click, leaving the two dolls alone, their stubby arms reaching around each other in a peaceful, never-ending hug.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So she went and tore up Kokichi's room for no good reason, I guess. Angry Kirumi sure is scary...
> 
> This was still slower to write than I would've liked, but hey, at least it didn't take two weeks. I've got a bunch of half-finished ideas sitting around, but bringing them to completion is proving to be difficult. Stay tuned!


	13. In Vino Veritas

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> On a day Kirumi guesses to be Shuichi's birthday, she meets him in private for a quiet celebration, bringing some champagne she swiped from the Academy warehouse just for the occasion. Don't worry, though, she's the responsible one... right?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Obligatory disclaimer that underage drinking is not a joke and no one should do it, and that this is not an accurate depiction, yadda, yadda, yadda. Don't think about it too much.
> 
> Content warning: out of character, out of character, out of character, out of character, out of character. You have been warned.

The seconds slowly pass by, in dead silence save for the distant ticking of the wall clock, and Shuichi squirms uneasily in his armchair. "Did we really have to do this in my room?" He asks, somewhat dryly. "I mean, if people saw you were in here, who knows _what_ they'd think."

The Ultimate Maid sits across from him, staring back in his direction through unmoving eyes. They sit on opposite sides of a small table, him anxiously tapping one foot on the floor and her with her hands folded neatly in front of her. Kirumi shakes her head. "They can believe what they like, Shuichi. As your maid, it would be unbecoming of me not to accompany you on an occasion such as this, no matter what the ignorant masses may choose to believe."

"I... guess." Shuichi leans back in his chair and shifts his weight. "But... what's the occasion?"

"Ah. Well..." Kirumi looks away, a slight blush appearing on her cheeks. "I was wondering how we could measure the passage of time, given that we are in complete isolation from the outside world. I consulted with Kaito and Gonta for their best guesses as to the date, and based on the former's astronomy and the latter's estimation of the season, they concluded that it is some time around late August or early September." She turns back to face him. "Your birthday is on the seventh, is it not?"

Shuichi fidgets. "W-well, yes, but..." He blinks. "Wait, so you went through all that just to throw me a _birthday party?"_

Kirumi makes a noncommittal sound. "Well, it is only an approximation at best, and _party_ is perhaps an overstatement, but... yes." Her expression softens and she beams at him, suppressing a gentle laugh as an innocent twinkle appears in her eyes. "Happy birthday, Shuichi." 

"Oh. I..." Shuichi feels himself break out in a blush and he awkwardly scratches at his neck. "I... oh, geez... what do I say?... Th-thanks."

"It was the least I could do," Kirumi demurs with a smile. "But you are welcome. And besides, what sort of birthday would be complete without gifts?" She retrives a small paper gift bag from beside the armchair, retrieving from its midst a large, very expensive-looking glass bottle. She sets it down on the table with a loud thump, Shuichi nearly jumping out of his seat at the sound. 

"What the..." Shuichi peers apprehensively at the present, making out some illegible French script on the label. "Where on earth did you get this from?"

"Ah, impressed, are you?" Kirumi's chest puffs up with pride. "I found some of these in a crate near the back of the warehouse. I haven't a clue how they got there, but thought it best to take them for safe keeping... lest someone as irresponsible as Miu get their hands on them first."

Shuichi exhales sharply. "...right. Purely for practical reasons, I suppose."

"Absolutely," Kirumi affirms with a nod, completely oblivious to the sarcasm. "But since the opportunity has presented itself..." she produces from behind her back a pair of dainty-looking wine glasses, setting them down on the table, one facing her, one facing Shuichi. She produces a little corkscrew from her pocket and jams it into the top of the bottle, giving it a hearty twist. "Don't mind if I do."

Shuichi stares at her for a few seconds before quietly clearing his throat. "Um, that _is_ non-alcoholic... right?"

"I do not believe I ever said that." Kirumi doesn't even look up from the bottle.

Shuichi frowns. "Wait, but you're not... are you even old enough to drink?"

Kirumi stops. The light vanishes from her eyes and she glowers at him disapprovingly. "Shuichi, has your mother never told you not to ask a woman her age?"

Shuichi gulps. A faint sense of danger sends chills down his spine. "N-no, I mean... isn't the legal age twenty? Aren't you supposed to be a high schooler?"

Kirumi clicks her tongue dismissively, shaking her head. "The drinking age is not the same everywhere, Shuichi. It is quite legal at my age in Austria, for instance."

"Okay, but we're not _in_ Austria!" Shuichi insists. "We're in _Japan!"_

Kirumi purses her lips and stares glumly at the ground. "...You don't know that," she eventually mumbles.

Shuichi frowns as Kirumi continues to struggle with the corkscrew. "Are you sure we should be doing this? Isn't a little... I dunno, dangerous?"

Kirumi scoffs. "Please. How irresponsible do you think I am?" She gives the corkscrew another twist and the cork pops out of the bottle with a satisfying thunk. "Do you take me for a _child?"_

 _You **are** a child,_ Shuichi wants to respond, but he reasons that maybe talking down to the super-battle-maid capable of defeating crime syndicates or running entire countries is not the best plan of action. Instead he lets out another defeated sigh, one hand drifting to his temples. "Okay, I... I'm sorry I doubted you."

Kirumi smirks triumphantly. "Apology accepted. But while we are on the subject..." she raises the mouth of the bottle in his direction. "Would you care to partake as well? It is your birthday we are celebrating, is it not?"

"Huh?" He raises his hands defensively and shrinks away from her, mouth twisting into an uneasy grimace. "No, I... I couldn't possibly-"

"Oh, do go on. I _insist."_ Kirumi's smile grows wider, as friendly and innocent as can be. Shuichi looks to the bottle, then to Kirumi, then back to the bottle. The obvious right answer is 'no.' This must be that peer pressure his uncle was warning him about. But... 

He looks to Kirumi again, and the peaceful, innocent look of joy crossing her features, and her expression lights up at the eye contact. Shuichi squirms again. He just can't say no to that face...

At last he sighs and offers her his glass. "What the heck. I hope I won't regret this." After all, what's the worst that could happen?

Kirumi nods encouragingly and smiles, deftly balancing the bottle on the glass' edge as she fills it to the brim. "There you go, Shuichi. You mustn't be afraid to live a little." She hands the glass back to him and he accepts with a wary nod. She raises her glass to his, the hint of a smile creeping onto her face. "To your health, I suppose. And... to all of us."

The glasses clink together and despite himself Shuichi starts to smile back. "Yeah," he agrees, leaning back in his chair. "To us." He brings the glass to his lips and takes a sniff. The smell is stronger than he expected. "Just... don't overdo it, okay?"

Kirumi sighs again, inspecting her drink as she lazily swirls it around in one hand. "Your concern is appreciated, Shuichi, but let me assure you, I am the last person who would ever do something so unsightly. Your fears are completely unfounded." She raises her glass again and gives him an understanding nod. "Cheers."

~+~

Not even an hour later, Kirumi proves herself woefully wrong.

She sways dangerously from side to side, wine glass perilously perched in one hand, the other resting delicately on her chest. Her face is flushed bright red, a far cry from her usual ghostly pale, and she can't so much as look his way without bursting into a fit of uncontrolled giggling.

It's just as Shuichi feared. She's a total lightweight.

Shuichi blinks a couple of times as the form of Kirumi drifts in and out of focus. "Are you... are you sure you should be having any more of that?" His words come out slowly and half-slurred, as if a thick haze has descended onto his brain, blurring his vision as much as his speech. He slowly slumps over to one side before catching himself and bolting upright in his seat again. Even his balance is off, too... what a strange feeling.

Kirumi fumbles for the bottle sitting on the table and pours herself another glass with shaking hands. "Look at me, I'm, like, just like a bartender... in a tender bar..." she cracks up at her own nonsensical joke. 

Shuichi sighs, choosing to focus on his drink instead. He knew her sense of humor wasn't exactly up to snuff, but this is extreme, even for her. "Um, was there a punchline somewhere in there?" 

Kirumi blinks. "P-... punch? Where?" She squints at the label, confused. "I could have sworn this was champagne..."

Shuichi hears himself stifle a snort. Why did he do that? It wasn't _that_ funny... 

He looks up to find Kirumi staring at him, her eyes boring into his skull while her crooked smile grows wider by the second. He gulps. "What... are you staring at?"

Kirumi bursts out in another wheezing laugh, "I-I'm sorry, but your face... your face is, just, so _cuuuuute!_ ...and there's so _many_ of them, too...!" She puts an unsteady hand to her mouth and giggles. "Wooooow, so many Shuichis, all for me...!"

Shuichi blinks. "What the heck are you talking about?"

Kirumi reaches out and beckons with both hands. "Come on... come closer... any of you..." She clumsily rises to her feet and takes a single step - altough it looks more like a stagger - towards him, wobbling dangerously from side to side. Suddenly she trips over her toes and tumbles forward, letting out a shocked squeak as her arms flail uselessly in front of her.

Shuichi's eyes go wide. "Hey, _watch out!"_ He suddenly leaps to his feet and rushes to her side, the adrenaline slicing through his mental fog, catching her just as she topples over her feet and crashes into his arms. Kirumi stares up at him, her eyes just as wide as his and mouth hanging open in a little O, before her cheeks flush red and she giggles again. "My hero," she swoons.

Shuichi forces out a laugh and averts his eyes. "Come on. Don't... don't be ridiculous." His gaze drifts downwards until his eyes lock with hers, and the rest of his retort dies on his lips. Her hair is messily swept over to one side, exposing the eye normally shielded from view by her bangs, and she stares up at him with her lips slightly parted in... what _is_ that expression? Awe? Longing?

Something more powerful than that?

He swallows nervously, but can't seem to look away. Those eyes of hers are such a brilliant green... he feels something flutter in his chest - heart murmur, maybe? He should get that looked at - and his eyes flicker away as he slowly helps her to her feet. _Calm down,_ he mentally hisses at himself, _don't get carried away..._

...leaving him totally off-guard when she raises her hands to his cheeks, yanks him closer, and messily mashes her lips onto his.

Shuichi freezes. _"Mmph-!"_ Even through the overpowering taste of alcohol he's still overwhelmed by just how _soft_ her lips are, and he feels his self-control fast slipping away. His eyes flutter shut and he leans further into the kiss, both arms slowly drifting down towards her waist. His hands come to rest on her hips and he pulls her closer, and she makes a quiet noise, a desperate, needy sound that sends shivers down his spine. He so wants to surrender, wants to give in, wants to...

...but then, in the blink of an eye, his common sense comes rushing back. His eyes fly open and his entire body goes tense, jerking back and yanking his head away. "Kirumi!? What are you... h- _hey!"_

Kirumi refuses to relent, planting another peck on his lips, followed by two more on his cheek. "Shuichi... I... I love you so, _so_ much..." she wraps her arms around his back and squeezes him tight, nuzzling her head against his shoulder and giggling. "Best boy..."

Shuichi's face explodes in a furious blush. "You _what!?"_ It takes all of his self-control not to scream. _"W-wait a minute!"_ He roughly pushes her away and she stumbles backwards, collapsing back into the armchair with an undignified flop. Shuichi covers his beet-red face with both hands and groans, the warmth of his blush almost scalding his fingers. "My heart's not... I mean, _I'm_ not ready for this..."

Kirumi "N-... no? Why not? Are you unwell? Or is it because... because you don't feel the same way about m-me...?" She suddenly goes stiff and tears well up in her eyes. "Is that it?"

"H-huh?" The color drains out of Shuichi's face and his antenna hair stands up on end. _"No!_ That's... that's not it at all!" He bursts out in an uncontrolled, nervous wheeze.

Immediately Kirumi's face lights up and she claps her hands together in delight. "So... you _do_ feel the same way? Oh, Shuichi, you've made me so _happy-"_

"N- **no!** I mean, yes! I mean, maybe...? I... I like you a lot, and- and we spend a lot of time together and all, b-but..." Shuichi stammers and stops, desperately searching for the right answer. "That's... I can't tell you yet." His breath catches in his throat. "I need more time... I'm not ready." He buries his head in his hands and lets out a shaky breath. _Come on, calm down... please..._

Kirumi whines. "Awww, whyyy?" 

"What do you mean, _why!?"_ Shuichi squeaks, voice cracking uncontrollably. "You can't... you can't just... _do_ that and expect an answer! That's not how it _works!"_

Kirumi stares at him blankly before flopping backwards and sinking into her chair, sulking. "...Fine." She glumly examines her empty glass, tilting it upside down and shaking it for good measure, before her gaze drifts to the bottle resting on the table. Her eyes light up again and she hungrily licks her lips, reaching towards the alcoholic prize.

Unfortunately, Shuichi gets there first. "Okay, that's enough." He yanks the bottle out of her reach, ignoring her whining as her hands swipe at the air where her target just was. "I think you've had enough of that." 

Kirumi pouts at him, one foot impatiently thumping on the floor. "Aww, you're no fun."

Shuichi tries not to scoff. "Tripping over your toes isn't fun either, but did that stop you?"

She doesn't have a retort waiting for that one.

The room awkwardly sinks into silence, broken only by Kirumi occasionally humming a whimsical tune, and by the deafening rush of blood in Shuichi's ears. He stares at the ground, lips twisted into a sour grimace. What's with her today? Is she just trying to mess with him? But every time he looks her way, he finds her staring back at him, blushing and giggling like a little girl, batting her eyes at him in what he can only assume is an attempt to flirt. Shuichi scowls and looks away again, covering his mouth, trying futilely to ignore the heat he feels under his hand. Why is he blushing, too? Why can't he just _look_ at her? None of this makes any sense...

After what feels like an eternity Shuichi works up the courage to clear his throat. "Ahem... how about we just... cut the celebration short here?" He weakly massages his temples with one hand. "I think I'm having a migraine."

"In-... indeed..." Kirumi shakily rises to her feet and dusts off her dress. "It... appears to be getting late, Shuichi." She stands up straight and her expression becomes deadly serious.

Shuichi blinks. "It's five o'clock."

"It's _late,"_ she insists. Her voice falls lower in an apparent attempt at regaining her usual poise. It doesn't work - her words are still slurred and her pitch is still almost an octave too high. She wobbles her way past him, Shuichi staring at her with one eyebrow raised in confusion, until she stops right before his bed, collapsing onto it in a clumsy heap. 

Shuichi's mouth falls open. "Huh? What do you think you're-"

"I'm tired," she says in a low monotone. "I must rest before resuming my usual duties. I will see you tomorrow. I bed you, I mean, _bid_ you, farewell." 

"Y-you don't understand!" Shuichi splutters, frantically waving his hands. "This is _my_ room! That's _my_ bed! You can't just-"

"Good _night_ , Shuichi," she deadpans, before rolling over and immediately passing out.

Shuichi stares at her back, his mouth hanging open in disbelief, before he groans, exasperated, and anxiously wrings his hands. Now what is he going to do? He can't just leave her here. If word got out that Kirumi were not only alone with him in his room, but _sleeping in his bed..._ God, he'd never hear the end of it. But he can't move her like this, can he?

"This was supposed to be _my birthday,_ too..." With an even louder groan he gives up and follows her to the bed, grumbling under his breath all the while. He weakly pulls the sheets over her body, doing his best not to disturb her slumber, but just as he's about to finish tucking her in his gaze comes to rest on her face. He knows he shouldn't stare, but...

He curiously looks her over - she's out cold already, it seems, perfectly still except for the gentle rise and fall of her chest with each breath. She looks so... peaceful, so _angelic_. Shuichi feels a hint of warmth creeping into his cheeks again. Was she always so... pretty? 

Shuichi freezes, before abruptly slapping one hand to his face. _Idiot. **Everyone** looks pretty when you're drunk._

Turning away, he tries desperately to think of a plan, fighting a futile battle against the wine-induced haze clouding his mind, now less razor-sharp and more blunt as a brick. He can't stay here, they'll find him out... he needs to stay somewhere else. Kaito's place? Wait, is that upstairs or not? Could he even walk up the stairs in his state? Even asking the question makes him nearly tip over. No, no. It's no use. He just needs to get somewhere he can sleep without being murdered. He yawns loudly. _Sleep..._

Something sounds out from behind him and cuts off his train of thought. He whips around to the source of the noise, finding Kirumi ever so slightly trembling as she curls up on his bed, her body shaking and hitching as she quietly sniffles.

Shuichi tenses. What _now?_ He apprehensively steps closer to her, careful not to startle her, and reaches out a hand in her direction. "Uh... Kirumi?"

She rolls over to face him, the most pitiful look of heartbreak on her face. Her eyes, so sparkly and full of life not a minute ago, are now messily strewn with tears, and she weakly dabs at her eyes with the back of her gloved hand, her sniffling growing into quiet sobbing. "Sh-... _Shuichiiiii...."_

Shuichi's heart nearly shatters to pieces at the mere sight of her. He cautiously eases himself onto the bed beside her, one hand slowly drifting towards her shoulder. "What's the matter?... Where did all that energy from earlier go?"

"You came back..." Kirumi whispers. "I knew you would..."

Shuichi narrows his eyes. "I don't recall going away..."

"Don't do that ever again," she pleads, one hand slowly reaching towards his face. "You scared me half to death..."

Shuichi sighs, exasperated. She's talking nonsense again. "Look, you've had way too much to drink. I told you not to overdo it..." he grumbles and tugs at his bangs with two fingers. "What you need is some rest. I'll... I guess I'll have to find somewhere else to stay the nigh-"

Kirumi cries out and pulls at his sleeves with trembling hands. "N-no, don't..." she whimpers, in a voice equal parts pathetic and adorable. "Don't _leave_ me..."

Shuichi sighs again and shakes his head. "Look, Kirumi, it'll only be for the night. I'm not going anywhere. I'm right here."

"Th-they always say that..." she sniffles, wiping at her eye with the back of her hand. "They're always there for us, 'til one day they're just... not... Rantaro and Ryoma and... e-even Kaede..."

Shuichi freezes at the mention of their fallen classmates. "Wait, what did you say...?"

"People just keep getting t-taken from us..." Kirumi whimpers. "S-s-something could happen to you, and I... I won't be there to stop it..." Kirumi's lips quiver as she holds back tears. "I can't stand it... the _thought_ of it..." her voice gets even quieter and her eyes fall to the floor, her grip on his sleeve growing tighter. "Never having tea with you again... never seeing you laugh, or smile at me ever again..." 

Shuichi stares at her, awestruck. What...? Where is this coming from? 

"You mean so much to me..." Kirumi sobs in between a series of loud sniffles. "If someone took you away and I couldn't do anything about it, I... _I...!"_

Shuichi's jaw slowly clenches as he takes in her words. So it's true, then... it wasn't just some drunken infatuation of hers. But then...

He'd always thought she was so strong, standing tall and defiant in the face of every murder, every trial, every execution, the ever-present shoulder to lean on and comforting hand on his shoulder. It'd never even occurred to him that, underneath that rigid and unmoving mask, she'd been hurting... they were her friends, too, dying one by one to the hand of the culprit or the gavel of the executioner, and each time another friend lost their life, she couldn't even let herself mourn, or cry, or do anything under than force her chin up and keep the stiff upper lip. 

That was the duty she placed upon herself. That was what her "devotion" meant. To be the anchor holding the others in place, the unbreakable pillar holding them all aloft... but only around him would she ever allow herself to be anything else, to show those rare moments of weakness when the impeccable mask finally cracked. Who would do that for her, if not him? Who else would she trust enough to be vulnerable like this in front of? Who else could bear to lose the illusion of the perfect unshakeable maid? It almost breaks Shuichi's heart just to think about it. All this time... _that's_ what he meant to her. He was her confidant. Her companion.

_Her equal._

He takes a deep breath. "Kirumi, have you... have you been worrying about me all this time?"

She nods. "That's why... I wanna protect everyone... I wanna protect you..." She lets out a quiet, heartbroken sigh. "Because I... I haven't even told you that I love you..."

 _I think the secret's already out,_ thinks Shuichi, but he manages to avoid saying it aloud.

"I... I'm scared, Shuichi," she whimpers quietly, eyes cast downwards in shame. "I've never... felt this way about anyone before. I don't want to lose it, I don't want to lose _you_ , but... I just don't know what to-"

"Kirumi." He interrupts her firmly, one hand placed reassuringly on her shoulder. "I... I appreciate the sentiment. I know you want to protect me, but... you don't have to be so afraid."

Kirumi blinks. "...No?"

"I know I might not seem like it, but... I'm not as defenseless as I look. I mean, I'm supposed to be the Ultimate Detective, right? If that means anything at all, I should be able to prevent murders, not just solve them." He falters a little at the mention of his title, but he clenches his fist and forces the doubt out of his mind. "As long as I'm here, I'll do absolutely _everything_ I can to get us all out of here. No one, not Monokuma, not anyone else, is going to stop me. I _won't_ let this twisted game win. And that's my promise to you." He pauses to catch his breath. "And it's not just me, too. We have Kaito. We have Gonta. We have Maki. As long as we're all together in this, no one can drive us apart. That's the sacrifice that the others gave their lives for. No matter how many trials, no matter how many motives, Monokuma can't take that away from us." He places a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "So I'll be okay. You don't need to worry. Alright?"

She stirs. "...promise?"

Shuichi gives a firm nod. "Promise."

"Mm..." her head drifts to his shoulder and her eyes flutter closed. "As long as you promise." Somehow, for the briefest of moments the slurring and unsteadiness vanish from her voice, her words suddenly crystal-clear as if speaking straight from the heart. "Thank you, Shuichi. I... I love you." She squeezes tighter and nuzzles him again, the corner of her mouth tugging upwards into a tiny smile. 

Shuichi opens his mouth. "Of course, Kirumi. I..." He pauses. Wait, what's he saying? Was he really going to...? No. No, no way, _nope._ He was right the first time. It's definitely too early. He hesitates for a moment, his hands awkwardly hovering just above her shoulders, before his arms slip down to her back and he returns the hug, cradling her close as he feels himself start to smile. "...Yeah. Don't worry about it."

They stay there frozen in their embrace, the seconds slowly ticking by, until at last Shuichi's resolve runs out and he loosens his hold on her waist. He nervously runs a hand through his hair, his mouth twisting into another smile, breaking out in an uneasy chuckle. "Okay, so, um, since you're awake now... do you think you could make it back to your room okay? I could help you if you like-"

 _"No."_ Kirumi pouts. "Stay here."

Shuichi's smile drops. "...But you can't stay here. We need to get you back to your-"

 ** _"No."_** She pulls on him tighter, arms locking around him in a vice grip.

Shuichi breathes out sharply and his eyes dart around the room. "But... but... " 

He knows she mustn't stay. No matter how much he wants to hold her through the night, no matter how much he wants to reassure her and make her know everything will be okay, no amount of heart-warming cuteness is worth the earful he'd get from Miu or Kokichi if they ever found out. Not to mention the sharp kick to the teeth he'd probably get from Tenko. But...

He forces himself to look at her again, her puffy tear-strewn eyes meeting his. But that face she's making, the most pitiable and adorable puppy eyes in the world, pierces straight through his heart and suddenly he knows he can't refuse. 

She tugs on his sleeve again. "...Please?"

He sighs. "...Fine." It must be the alcohol talking.

He slowly backs away from her and stands up from the bed, dusting off his lap and looking around. No other choice, then. It looks like he'll be sleeping on the floor. Returning to Kirumi's side, he tries, as gently as he can, to pull the pillow out from underneath her head. It doesn't budge. He looks down at her and puts on as sympathetic a smile as he can manage. "...Hey, Kirumi, could you maybe move?"

She stirs a little, but doesn't speak. No answer.

Shuichi purses his lips and tugs a little harder on the pillow. "Kirumi?"

She looks up at him suddenly and her eyes seem to shimmer. "Shuichi... I know what to do now," she says in a low, threatening voice.

Shuichi blinks. "...Sorry?"

"All this time... I've been too afraid to act on my feelings... too weak to protect those I care for..." A dangerous glint enters her one exposed eye and she almost seems to smirk. "But no more..."

Shuichi takes a step back. A bead of sweat runs down his neck. "Um, Kirumi, you're... you're scaring me..."

"I'm not gonna be scared anymore...!" She sits up suddenly, "I won't let anyone hurt you _ever again...!"_ Before Shuichi can even open his mouth she reaches out and grabs his jacket with one hand, yanking him forward. He yelps in protest as he noisily crashes onto the mattress, but before he can escape Kirumi deftly raises one arm and wraps the sheets around them both, trapping him in a tight cocoon as he helplessly flops down beside her.

Shuichi's mouth flaps open and closed like a fish's. _"K-K-K-Kirumi!?"_

She puts one hand to her face and giggles quietly. "Did I surprise you?"

 ** _Did you!?_** he wants to scream, but no sound escapes his throat. "I- um-... what are... but...!"

"No need to worry..." she mumbles sleepily, giving him another squeeze. "You're staying here." She pulls him closer, protectively shielding his head with one hand, and gently nuzzles him again. "It's okay. You're safe now... you cute little thing..."

Shuichi tries valiantly not to gag. There's no way this is happening, she's so _warm,_ this has to be a dream, but she's _so warm,_ he has to get out of here, but she's so **_cute..._**

He draws in breath for one last, desperate effort to escape. "Kirumi, are... are you really sure you should be-"

"Good night, Shuichi," she whispers, in a soft, breathy voice scant above a whisper. Her eyes flutter closed and a peaceful smile appears on her lips. "Sleep well..."

He raises his voice to protest, but then her head slumps down and her breathing goes soft, and Shuichi knows that she's gone, drifting off into a peaceful sleep. He can already feel his resistance fading to nothingness under her touch, the last bit of tension draining from his limbs, cradled safely in Kirumi's embrace.

With a loud sigh, Shuichi finally surrenders. No use struggling now. 

He hesitates for a moment, before he slowly eases his arms around her and squeezes, returning the hug. "G'night, Kirumi," he hears himself mumble. Slowly, the world fades from view and his vision goes black, until all he can feel is the distant warmth of Kirumi's body, and the comforting feeling of her hands on his back, shielding him from the world in a tight, loving embrace.

~+~

The dormitory lies in a still and eerie silence, pitch-black save for the dull red glow of an alarm clock resting atop the nighstand. Suddenly the clock hits eight and an alarm sounds out in a piercing electronic screech, before a black-gloved hand flies out from beneath the covers and slams on top of the snooze button. Kirumi's voice echoes from the bed in a dull, pained groan, and she weakly crawls out from beneath the sheets, one hand drifting to her temples.

She tosses and turns in place, but the dull ache across her body, not to mention the splitting pain in her head, just won't go away. Just what _happened_ yesterday? She remembers meeting Shuichi for... _something_. His birthday, maybe. But everything after that is lost in a blinding haze, and just trying to think about it sends a wave of agony crashing through her brain. She winces. _Damn,_ that smarts. It feels like an _Exisal_ is stomping around her skull.

She blinks a few times in a lethargic daze. What time is it, even? She really could use some light in here. She reaches out with one hand and blindly fumbles around, reaching for the switch to her bedside lamp. She pauses at the sight of a familiar silver ring cresting the back of her hand and the ruffled sleeve covering her arm. _Wait... why am I still wearing my clothes...?_ She shakes her head. Whatever. It doesn't matter.

She reaches out for the light again, but her hand hits something strangely shaped and plastic. She squints, rubbing her eyes with one hand, and the image gradually coalesces into the shape of Monokuma.

She freezes with terror and her fight-or-flight instinct kicks in, until she belatedly realizes that it's far too small to be the real thing. She looks it over curiously - it resembles the headmaster, all right, but for some reason it has wings. Is it some kind of collectible toy? She slowly looks up, finding an entire shelf of Monokuma figures lining the wall from floor to ceiling. Something finally clicks in her mind and her body goes tense.

_This isn't my room._

Panicking, she throws the covers off of her in a quick and violent motion and moves to get up from the bed. But as soon as she tries to move she stops, held back by something wrapped tight around her waist. Her heart freezing, she slowly turns around, fearing the worst.

She finds Shuichi, holding her tight in his arms, wearing a peaceful, angelic smile as he sleeps soundly beside her. He stirs, sleepily mumbling something, and his hold on her waist grows tighter as his smile grows wider.

Kirumi's eyes go wide with horror and her face quickly goes red as a beet. "Wh-... Shuichi!? What are you... _when did I..."_ Her voice steadily climbs in pitch until her words come out in a squeak.

The day after his birthday, the happiest day of the year, Shuichi Saihara wakes up to the sound of Kirumi screaming, and the feeling of her fist landing squarely on his nose.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _What soberness conceals, drunkenness reveals._ Well, that's certainly one way to pry open poor Rumi's shell.
> 
> I have nothing clever to say about this one. Next chapter... eventually.


	14. On Melancholy Hill

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Season 53 of _Danganronpa_ is over, and two winners were crowned.
> 
> Shuichi Saihara and Kirumi Tojo do their best to pick up the pieces, moving on with their lives in a world they no longer recognize. But one way or another, the killing game catches up to them both.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, here we are, almost exactly two weeks after the last one. Release consistency was never my strong suit.
> 
> I'm not sure this even qualifies as shipping at all. But I'll write something cute for the next one to make up for it. 
> 
> ...Probably.

"You haven't touched your breakfast," Kirumi chides quietly. 

"I'm not hungry," is all Shuichi can say in response.

They sit on opposite sides of the kitchen table in painful silence, in dead silence broken only by the distant ticking of the wall-mounted clock. Annoying as it is, the sound is often the only sign of life in their apartment, a middling and nondescript place they split the rent on each month. It's no mansion, no castle or chateau. But it's their home just the same.

Shuichi grimaces as he stares down his untouched food. He has no doubt that it's excellent, even if their surroundings are a little lower-class than what Kirumi's used to. But he knows all too well that anything he eats won't stay down for long before his stomach lurches and he finds himself dashing for the nearest wastebin. So he has no choice morning after morning but to sit there in silence until Kirumi finally gives up and clears his untouched meal away.

This is their routine now. As routine as life could ever be for people like them.

"You should really eat _something,"_ Kirumi murmurs, absentmindedly stirring at a cup of tea in one hand. "This can't be healthy for you."

"Maybe later," comes his reply. 

"Are you sure?" Kirumi prods him, in as gentle a tone as can be. "Even if only a little b-"

"I don't recall you ever becoming my mother," Shuichi says without thinking. Out of the corner of his eye he notices Kirumi ever so slightly twitch.

"...I am aware, thanks," she mutters with a sigh. "Honestly, with how little you eat it's a minor miracle you've lasted this-"

A sudden loud bong cuts her off and they both freeze. The chime rings out again, sounding eight times more in quick succession. Nine o'clock, on the hour. 

Kirumi's shoulders sag and she sighs, lazily twirling a lock of hair about one gloved finger. "...I suppose that's my cue. I apologize, Shuichi, but it seems I have to go now. I mustn't be late for work."

Shuichi makes a noncommittal grunt, not looking up from his uneaten breakfast. He doesn't even know why she bothers working in the first place. The winnings they received are more than either of them could ever hope to spend. But he's learned by now not to question her ways. Maybe she finds it comforting, exercising the talent that dominated her fictional life. Maybe it offers her something to cling to. But Shuichi knows beyond a doubt that something like that would never work for him. 

He probably couldn't even read the file on a murder case without dropping to his knees and retching.

Kirumi doesn't notice his gloom, too busy rummaging through her purse looking for her keys. "I will return in the evening, as per usual. You have my phone number, correct?"

"Yeah," Shuichi says on reflex. "'Course I do."

"Wonderful. Feel free to call if you need anything, or if you have any, well..." she looks away and purses her lips. "...never mind." She gets up and reaches a hand out to him, as if about to tousle his hair, but then thinks better of it and excuses herself. Shuichi doesn't even look after her as she disappears through the doorway, and only the distant slam of the front door confirms that she's gone.

He slumps back in his chair and sighs, one hand drifting to his temples. Kirumi does her best to be discreet, but he's no idiot. Sometimes he wishes she would quit tiptoeing around the issue and just tell him to his face. Tell him that he's so fragile she worries he won't get through the day without her.

He shakes his head in disgust, pushing his untouched food away. Forget that. He needs something else to fill his mind with.

He fumbles for the television remote from under a stack of last week's newspapers and aims it at the television sitting atop the kitchen counter. The screen flickers to life in a burst of noise, to a couple of characters arguing in a language he doesn't understand. He sluggishly flips through the channels one by one, past news bulletins or weather forecasts or cartoons he doesn't care about. But when he hits the button once more he freezes, the remote slipping through his fingers and noisily clattering to the ground.

The sardonically cheerful face of Monokuma stares him in the eye, gleefully gesturing to a logo reading _Danganronpa 54: A New Generation of Despair._

Shuichi makes a noise somewhere between a hiss and a choke. The onscreen Monokuma doesn't react to his outburst, instead giggling loudly in his trademark laugh and bouncing away with a stock sound effect. He vanishes into nothingness, soon replaced by a wave of human-shaped silhouettes, and though no name or caption accompanies them Shuichi knows beyond a doubt what they are. 

Sixteen more Ultimates, their names and talents yet to be revealed. Sixteen more wide-eyed fools, throwing their lives away for their five minutes of fame.

He shuts the TV off before the commercial even finishes. He buries his head in his hands and groans, trying futilely to drown out the ad and its signature _pu-hu-hu_ still ringing painfully in his ears.

Why can't he just be rid of it all?

~+~

_Shuichi and Kirumi sit side-by-side at a featureless plastic table. The room is empty, drab and dull save for a handful of balloons and a tasteless banner across the back wall reading "Congratulations."_

_Out of the corner of his eye Shuichi spots a mirror, and he has no doubt at all that it's one-way._

_Some hapless low-level aide quietly clears her throat, clutching at a disorganized stack of papers with unsteady hands. She meekly pushes a single sheet of paper across the table and Shuichi pores over it through narrowed eyes. It's a pre-prepared list of questions and answers, pleading desperately with them stick to the script and not to say anything that would harm the company's reputation._  
_Kirumi, ever the professional, smiles as sweetly as she can and thanks the aide for her patience. No sooner does she leave than Shuichi crumples the worthless list into a ball._

_A tired-looking businessman - their 'agent,' apparently - is their next visitor. Evidently undeterred by Shuichi's weary stare or by Kirumi's armor-piercing glower, he drones on endlessly about terms and conditions and god knows what else, sliding some release form and a pen across the table towards them both. Shuichi looks over the paper and its legalese gibberish with suspicion. He doesn't trust it one bit, any more than anything else with Team Danganronpa's wretched logo on it, but in the end he gives up and signs._

_No choice, he supposes._

_His job apparently done, the staff shoo them along into the next room, pitch-black save for the tastelessly tacky couch in the center, a spotlight shining down from above. Shuichi's stomach churns at the sight. It's a television studio._

_Dozens of fans, and no doubt countless cameras, peer down at them from the darkened rows of seats and the sight makes Shuichi sick to his stomach. As if they're animals in captivity, or specimens under a microscope, to be poked and prodded and studied in excruciating detail. The agent taps them once each on the shoulder and reminds them to 'play nice.' The audience loves a ship tease, he tells them with a smile._

_They end up sitting on opposite sides of the room. The whole time in the studio, Shuichi doesn't look at her even once._

~+~

He tags along with Kirumi on her next grocery run. He doesn't really know why he does this, following her like a shadow as she runs her errands and does the most mundane, boring things. But then again, it's practically the only time he ever leaves home.

Maybe it lets him pretend to be useful.

Kirumi's disappeared again, presumably chasing down some spices he doesn't know how to pronounce, leaving Shuichi alone to wander up and down the aisles, clutching at a shopping list she gave him earlier. He squints at the next item on the list, Kirumi's dainty cursive handwriting elegant but barely legible, before looking back up at the rows of indistinguishable cans before him. He sighs and folds the note away, pulling a nondescript-looking can off the shelf and flipping it over to read the label.

The familiar outline of a red sickle-shaped eye stares right back at him. 

Shuichi freezes and drops the can, which proceeds to bounce off his shoe with a painfully loud thump. His breath hisses out from between his teeth as the can rolls away from him, revealing the all-too-familiar shape of the Academy's ursine headmaster and his five insufferable children. 

_Stupid promotional branding_ , he curses under his breath, nursing his sore toes as he awkwardly balances on one foot. He can't even get away from the game on a stupid can of soup. Nonetheless, he manages to make himself pick it up and put it back, label facing away, as much as he would love to just throw it.

He wordlessly makes his rounds through the rest of the store, checking off the items on Kirumi's note one by one and trying not to stumble upon any more _Danganronpa_ -branded products. After a few minutes (though it felt like hours) he finally exhausts the list, nodding in approval as he draws a line through the last item with his finger. It's hardly an achievement, managing to do something so trivial, but as far as he's concerned it's a start.

He makes his way to the front of the store, nodding in the direction of the underpaid youth manning the register as he sets the goods down on the counter. He grumbles quietly as he rummages through his wallet, sifting through a bunch of identical-looking bills. But only after he finally finds the five-thousand-yen note and looks up again does he realize that the cashier is staring at him.

Shuichi's mouth twists into a smile. Or as close to one as he can manage. "Is... is there something on my face?"

The cashier, a gangly messy-haired boy not much older than him, frowns and taps a finger on the counter. "Hey, wait a minute... you seem familiar."

Even that seemingly innocent, harmless statement is enough to send a chill down Shuichi's spine. "...Oh?"

He nods. "Yeah, like I've seen you somewhere before. Somewhere important." 

Shuichi tries to make himself laugh. "Oh, I... I'm not an important kind of guy. I think you've probably got the wrong-"

The cashier shakes his head. "No way. I'm not that bad with faces. I'm pretty sure you were, like, on TV or something."

Shuichi's sense of dread builds. "N-no, I really don't think that's-"

Suddenly the boy's face lights up and he claps his hands together in glee. "Oh, that's right! You're Shuichi Saihara, right? The winner of the last _Danganronpa!"_

Shuichi bites his tongue. Air escapes his lungs in a weak and stuttering laugh. "Y-yeah, I... I get that a lot. But I'm not-"

"Wow, this is... this is such an honor. I, you know, I'm a huge fan. Huge." His face lights up with excitement. "Wait, so that means you got to watch Himiko's execution first-hand? _The Disappearing Act_ was my favorite!" His breath escapes his mouth in a wheeze and he bounces eagerly on his heels. "Oh, I-I'm sorry, I must be sounding really weird right now... it's just, I'd do anything to be part of a show like that! It must be so... so _cool!"_

Something about the way he says it, such an innocent phrase, yet so hauntingly familiar, makes Shuichi's throat go tight. _I'd do anything._ His mouth runs dry and he grips onto his wallet, trying not to think that this kid, this nobody, could easily have been _him_ a year ago, 

"It's... not what you think," he mutters, staring into the ground. He wishes he could find the nerve to ask him just how cool he thinks it is to watch your friends vanish one by one, some of them because of you, only to be ripped out of the world you thought you knew and told that everything your friends fought and died for was fiction. A lie. But he knows there'd be no point, that this wide-eyed fool could never hope to understand, so he just stands there in silence, struggling to tune out the noise as the other boy rambles.

"Come on, no need to be modest! The way you took charge in all those trials? No one's gonna forget that!" He stifles a laugh as he reminisces. "Especially when you took Kiyo down... guy _definitely_ had it coming. Oh, and also-"

"Are... are you finished?" Shuichi tries to cut him off. "S-seriously, I'd really rather just get on with my-"

"What's going on here?" A feminine voice cuts in from behind him and in an instant Kirumi is there, glaring at the other boy with barely-concealed suspicion. "I apologize, is there some sort of problem?"

The cashier's mouth falls open and he excitedly points a finger at her. "Wait, you're the other one! The... the Ultimate Maid, right?"

"What are you-" Kirumi's eyes widen as she realizes what's happening. She hurriedly pulls several banknotes from her wallet, laying them down on the counter and sliding them in his direction. "I'm sorry, but you seem to have mistaken us for someone else. Please, just let us buy our things and we'll both be on our way-"

"Wow, _both_ Season 53 winners! Oh, man, I... I _have_ to get a picture of this!" He excitedly fumbles for something in his pocket.

Kirumi flinches. "Don't you _dare-"_

But before either of them can stop him they hear the loud click of a shutter. He thrusts his phone towards them, practically jumping up and down with excitement. "See? What do you think?"

"U-um... that's..." Shuichi stammers as the fan shoves the phone in his face. It's not a flattering photo, the camera flash exaggerating the bags under his eyes and Kirumi's hand blocking out half the shot, but something else on the screen catches his eye. He knows he shouldn't look, he knows it's a bad idea, but Shuichi's eye still wanders downward. 

There, arranged in a neat little row, are what must be dozens and dozens of screenshots, each one depicting one of his fallen classmates' final moments.

He feels his heart drop into his stomach as the memories come flooding back - Tenko's execution, Ryoma's ruined corpse, the bloodied mess that was Kokichi in that _fucking hydraulic press-_

 _"...Shuichi!"_ A voice cuts through the mental haze and shakes him back to reality. Only then does he realize that he's fallen to his knees, his legs having given out underneath him. One hand flies to his mouth and he fights the urge to vomit, his stomach churning violently as he tries not to think about Himiko drowning or Kiyo burning to a crisp _or Maki or Gonta or Angie or-_

The other boy's smile disappears. "H-hey, what's wrong with him?"

Kirumi ignores him. _"Get up,_ Shuichi. We're leaving." It comes out less as an order and more as a plea. Before Shuichi can say anything she grabs his hand and pulls him away and out the door. He vaguely hears the cashier wailing that they left their shopping behind, but Kirumi tightens her hold on his hand and walks faster still, Shuichi feebly stumbling after her to keep up.

No sooner do they make it to a nearby alley than Shuichi collapses again, clutching weakly at his stomach and vomiting his guts out. Kirumi plants a hand on his shoulder, looking away and closing her eyes as he throws up again and again, bile burning his throat and his chest, tears blurring his already-swimming vision.

He throws his arms around Kirumi and buries his head in her shoulder, hitching and shaking with each ragged, uneven breath. The bile has ruined her coat but she doesn't seem to care, only putting a bracing hand on the back of his head and quietly shushing him as he gags and splutters.

"I'm sorry," he eventually manages to choke out, in between fits of retching. "I'm sorry I'm so _pathetic_." Kirumi doesn't say anything at first, only wrapping both arms around his back and pulling him tighter into the hug.

"You're not," she assures him. "Not to me."

~+~

_The host, an insufferable-looking man dressed like someone twenty years younger, sits in between his two guests, throwing his arms wide open as the interview hits the air. "So! You probably know this already, but you two are the winners of Danganronpa 53!" The sound of cheering and applause echoes around the studio, none of it coming from either of the so-called winners. The man silences the crowd with a wave of his hand before leaning forward, resting his chin atop his folded hands._ _"So, I absolutely **have** to ask - not just anyone can survive to the end of a killing game. How did you two manage to pull it off?" _

_A painful silence hovers in the air. The host frowns and scratches his chin. "...Huh. No response, huh? Is this that 'strong, silent' archetype that I hear is so popular these days?" The grating sound of a laugh track fills the room, an almost comical contrast to the darkening faces of the guests."In-character to the very bitter end, I see."  
_

_"Are you expecting a professional-quality statement, mere moments after dragging us out of the Academy? After telling us everything we knew is **fiction**?" Kirumi's voice cuts through the air like a knife. _ _"You ask the impossible."_

_"Maybe so. But doing the impossible, fighting impossible odds... that's what Danganronpa's all about, isn't it?" He turns back to Shuichi as a wave of applause rises from the ranks of the audience. "I thought a certain someone would've taught you that by now, right?"  
_

_Shuichi shakes his head. "What are you talking about?"_

_"Come on, don't tell me you **forgot!"** The interviewer laughs again, his voice every bit as painful as nails on a chalkboard. _ _"You know who I'm referring to, don't you?"_

_Shuichi's nails burrow into the couch. "Don't-"_

_"The impossible is possible," he recites, in a lilting sing-song voice that sounds nothing at all like Kaito. "All you gotta do is make it so!" Shuichi bristles at the phrase, this cruel joke, this **mockery** of his best friend's memory, but it makes no difference to the crowd. They cheer loudly and applaud, just like they undoubtedly did at every catchphrase, every monologue, every moment of heroism in the game.  
_

_The host turns back to Shuichi, nodding with delight as he basks in the applause. "What's the matter, Saihara? Didn't like my impression?" He smirks. "Or have you forgotten your old pal's lesson already?"_

_Shuichi still doesn't answer, too busy imagining his fist landing right on the other man's jaw._

~+~

Febuary turns to March turns to April, the cold winter giving way to spring. Not that it makes much difference to Shuichi. He barely even leaves the apartment anymore, lest someone recognize him again. 

Shuichi glumly stares into his cup of tea, looking into his reflection in the dark-colored pool below. Even through the haze of the discolored liquid he can still see just how tired he looks. The circles under his eyes just won't go away.

He sips at the tea, taking no notice of its taste. He has no doubt that it's flawless, like seemingly everything Kirumi does. But, Ultimate Maid's specialty or not, after drinking the same thing every morning for months on end, it's definitely lost all flavor it might have ever had.

Kirumi stares at him from across the kitchen table, slowly sipping from her own cup of tea, brows raised in worry. "Shuichi, is something bothering you?"

 _More than usual,_ is the implied condition. 

"No," Shuichi lies. "It's just that..." He spares an uneasy glance towards the calendar on the wall, each bygone day crossed out with a purple-pink X. "It would have been Kaede's birthday today."

Kirumi says nothing, slowly setting her teacup down. "I see." She knows all too well what that means.

"I know it's not healthy to dwell, but..." Shuichi hangs his head. "I just can't stop thinking about it... not just her, but everyone else, too... is this really what they would want?" His voice grows weaker. "I made her a promise..."

Kirumi raises a fist to her mouth and clears her throat. "Shuichi." She speaks with a voice that's quiet yet firm. "It is not my place to judge, but... how long has it been now? Six months?"

Shuichi grimaces and his grip on the teacup tightens. "Six months on Tuesday."

Kirumi nods. "...Of course." She rises from her feet and slowly steps around the table until she's standing beside him, resting both hands atop the back of his chair. "I know you shared quite the bond with Kaede, and with the others too, but..." She trails off mid-sentence and she looks away. "There is nothing wrong with mourning, but you cannot let it consume you forever."

"None of this had to happen," he mutters, as if he didn't even hear her. "None of them had to die."

"It was a _killing game,"_ Kirumi insists. "For most of us, our fates were sealed the moment we signed up for an audition." Worry crosses her face as the former detective still doesn't respond. "Shuichi... we have discussed this before. The game's events were all planned months in advance, up until... well, you know. There wasn't anything we could have done."

"I still should've stopped it." Shuichi scowls and glares into the ground. "Kaito, Kaede, even Kokichi -at least they were the ones who tried." His face darkens and he tenses up further. "It should have been _them_ standing here."

Kirumi looks away as she gently lays a reassuring hand on his shoulder. "Shuichi, if I may speak freely... if Kaito were here, he would probably smack you across the jaw again just for saying that." She lets out a wistful sigh. "And as for Kaede, if she were here... it would break her heart to hear you blaming yourself."

The accusation stabs Shuichi through the heart. "You barely even knew her," he mutters through clenched teeth.

"Perhaps, but, please, trust in my intuition as a maid. No one would want you to hurt yourself like this. Neither Kaede, nor Kaito, nor Maki or anyone else. They may not all have had the chance to show it, but they cared about you, Shuichi. _We..._ cared about you." Her grip on his shoulder tightens. 

Shuichi chokes as he feels the tears welling up in the corner of his eye. He scowls, he bites his cheek, he does everything he can to distract himself from the memories of his friends as they bade their goodbyes, one by one, before Monokuma dragged them off to their doom. He can't cry, he mustn't, he can't, he _can't-_

But it's just no use. No matter how hard he clenches his teeth and glares into nothingness, how hard he balls his fists and tenses up, he can't stop the tears from appearing in the corner of his eyes, his breathing collapsing into a fit of subdued sniffling as it hits him, it truly hits him, for the first time since they escaped that wretched academy. 

_It's my fault. It's my fault they didn't make it._

"It's... it's okay, Shuichi." Kirumi's arms ease around his shoulders and she pulls him closer. "From what little I knew of Kaede... she wouldn't want you to bottle things up trying to be strong. Even for her sake. If you truly cared for her, you should know better than to-"

Shuichi sees red and something in him cracks. 

_"What would **you** know!?"_ He throws her arms off him as he staggers to his feet, whirling around and glaring at her through narrowed, tear-strewn eyes. "I don't just miss her, she... both of them, they _died_ because of me!" He pounds a fist on the table and the porcelain jumps and rattles with the impact. 

Kirumi's eyes widen. "Shuichi, that's not-"

"You were going to tell me that it's not my fault, weren't you? That there was nothing I could have done?" Shuichi scoffs, letting out a painful and utterly insincere laugh. "Don't give me that... If I hadn't botched my investigation, Kaede wouldn't have had to die for a crime she _didn't even do._ Kaito and Kokichi wouldn't have had to die for a plan that _didn't even work. That's_ my fault! _That's_ what I have to live with!"

Kirumi raises her hands. "Shuichi, I'm sorry, please calm do-"

"I promised them we'd escape," he laments, "I promised them I'd find the truth, but I didn't! Not until all of them were dead and it was too late! They sacrificed everything so that we could live, and you're telling me they'd want me to just _move on?_ You're saying _I'm_ the one who didn't understand them?"

"Shuichi, listen to me. I understand how you feel, but-"

 _"No you don't,"_ he snaps at her, "You'd _never_ get it! You never had _anyone_ like that! Not Gonta, not Rantaro, not even Ryoma! You don't know what it's like, going _every damn day_ thinking that they should be here instead of you! Who do _you_ have, who haunts you every time you close your eyes and keeps you awake at night and just won't ever go away?! You have _no one_ to pretend to be brave for!"

Kirumi goes stiff and her composure shatters to pieces. "I... but... that's not..."

She stammers helplessly, her voice dwindling down to nothing, and for the first time in a very long time the invincible Ultimate Maid looks small, frail, and so very weak.

Shuichi gnashes his teeth. "Well?" He demands. "Who do _you_ have to be strong for?"

Kirumi stares at him with a face like she had been shot in the chest.

 _"You,"_ she whispers.

~+~

_The interview is a nightmare._

_The cameras keep rolling and the fans crowd around, as if everyone in the world wants a word with the man of the hour. They barrage him with questions and he struggles to respond, muttering one noncommittal half-answer after another, hoping that if he just gives them what they want that they'll leave him alone. But as much as he wishes it would stop, that it would all just stop, the cameras keep rolling and the show goes on._

_The host slides over to Shuichi after a particularly empty answer. "You know, it's strange," he muses aloud, either unaware or uncaring about Shuichi's lack of enthusiasm. "I wasn't expecting you to be so... terse. Back in the Academy, you sounded like you had a lot you wanted to say."_

_Shuichi forces out a laugh. It comes out cold and insincere. "Did I?"_

_"Yes, of- of course! Going on and on about 'using our lives' and 'ending Danganronpa'... I don't really get it myself, but you sure looked like you were onto something!"_

_"Of course you wouldn't get it," Shuichi mutters._

_The interviewer laughs loudly, shaking his head in a sad, patronizing gesture. "Oh, Saihara, you really are quite the character. No wonder Tsumugi was so proud of you. A heroic monologue, stealing the spotlight while your partner does the heavy lifting... genius. Simply genius."_

_"That's not what happened." Shuichi snaps. "You think we'd do something that heartless? Yeah, right. We're not like you."_

_The host seems to flinch at the indictment, but in the end he just runs a hand through his hair and sighs. "Figures. Are all detectives usually this brooding?" He turns to his other guest as the audience chuckles along."What about you, then?" He glides back to near Kirumi, who sits motionlessly at the end of the couch, hands folded in her lap, staring at the ground. He places a hand under her chin and lifts. "Come on, don't be shy."_

_"Don't **touch** her," Shuichi mutters, still not looking her way. Kirumi says nothing. _

_"Poor little Mugi... she always was the life of the office, I'm told." The host sighs, clicking his tongue in disapproval, as he backs away from the maid. "What a waste. All that passion..."_

_"Passion for making us suffer, you mean," spits Shuichi, but no one pays him any heed._

_"So? Why'd you do it?" He gestures emphatically to Kirumi, who doesn't move even slightly in response. "Come now, don't leave us all hanging."_

_"Because she was the mastermind," Kirumi insists. Her voice is different - wavering, less focused than before - and she weakly clutches at the fabric of her dress. "She was the one responsible for... for everything."_

_"I mean, that's true, but..." The host chuckles and shakes his head. "But that's not really the reason, was it? I mean - were you certain it was her? It could've been **him** for all you knew - looks are deceiving, haven't you learned that by now?" Shuichi refuses to look, but he still bristles knowing that the interviewer's finger, and no doubt thousands of pairs of eyes, are all pointing his way. "Heck, there might not even have **been** a mastermind. Isn't that what you all thought once Kaede bought the farm?" _

_Shuichi's hands ball into fists. "Don't you **dare** say her name," he croaks, but his voice is far too dry, far too weak, and not a soul hears his threat. _

_"You know nothing about what happened," hisses Kirumi, still refusing to look the interviewer in the eye._

_He laughs. "Hey, don't be like that. Tell us what was really on your mind. You wanted to survive? You wanted **him** to survive? What was it?"_  
_Kirumi grits her teeth. "I am afraid I don't know what you are talking about."_

_The host's smile disappears. "Well, **I** do. There were only three of you left," he mutters, in a low, taunting voice. "You knew the rules - the game ends when only two students remain."_

_Kirumi seems to shrink. "Please, I-"_

_"You trusted Shuichi, or at least you thought you did. You knew that once it was just the two of you, you'd be safe. So-"_

**_"Don't-"_ **

_"So you killed Tsumugi. You murdered her, right then and there, to force this killing game to end." He grins at her, a wide, sickening smile oozing malice from every pore. "Well? How'd I do?"_

_He bursts into a grating, high-pitched laugh, the audience laughing right along with him, as if the whole situation were just the funniest thing in the world, taunting them, mocking them, to the familiar cadence of Monokuma's infamous laugh._

_Shuichi doesn't remember exactly what happens next. The only thing he knows, is that not even a second later he's at the other side of the room, both his hands closing around the interviewer's neck._

_The room explodes into chaos and he faintly hears someone screaming, eventually realizing it to be himself. He hears Kirumi pleading with him to stop, grabbing frantically at his shoulders and trying to pull him away, but he doesn't relent. He won't let go, not when the lights go out, not when the security starts beating him down, not until that horrible, sickening laughter is silenced once and for all._

~+~

Shuichi paces around his bedroom, one hand over his mouth, trying his damnedest to keep Kirumi off his mind. His anger dissipated almost instantly, seeing her like that- so small, so fragile- and now all he feels is just a hollow, empty numbness. He puts a hand to his forehead and grimaces thinking about the way she just _broke_ , backing away from him and retreating down the hall without so much as a peep.

She wouldn't even _look_ at him.

He wanders over to his bed and crashes down onto it, laying his back against the wall and staring into space. He wonders if, in her room across the hall, Kirumi is doing the same thing. He tenses up again and his hands ball into fists. Stupid, stupid, _stupid._

He curls up into a ball and hugs his knees to his chest. He tries to calm himself down - breathe in, hold, breathe out - but he knows it's no use. He can lock himself in their apartment, can shut himself out from the world all he likes, but no matter how hard he tries, no matter how valiantly Kirumi shields him from the past, nothing is ever enough to stop him from breaking down or lashing out.

Not until someone gets hurt. 

He groans loudly and wearily rubs at his eyes. They hurt - but whether from fatigue or from crying, he can no longer tell. 

_Things can't go on like this._

A sudden pounding on the door shakes him out of his trance. He nearly leaps up in the air at the sound, scrambling to sit up, but before he can even stand the door swings open. Kirumi stands in the doorway, a coat draped over one arm. She glares at him through her one visible eye, her expressionless face unmoving and unreadable.

Shuichi rubs his eyes. "What do you _want,"_ he mutters, as much in exhaustion as in irritation.

Kirumi doesn't so much as flinch. "How long are you going to sit there moping for?" 

Shuichi blinks. "...What?"

"Here. Catch." Kirumi pitches something towards him that lands perfectly in his lap. He slowly picks it up and looks it over. It's a coin purse.

"Change for the train fare," Kirumi says flatly. "I brought you your coat as well." She tosses it his way with one hand and he clumsily fumbles after it. "Don't keep me waiting." No sooner does she say so than she pivots and walks away, throwing her own coat over her shoulders, heels clacking noisily on the floor.

Shuichi stares in disbelief at the now-empty doorway, clutching tighter at the coat with both hands. His first inclination is to ignore her, to just roll back into bed and bury himself under the covers again. He has no reason to follow her. But then he hears the front door swing shut with an unusually loud slam and his hair stands up on end.

It rarely ends well for those who anger the Ultimate Maid.

"W- _wait!"_ Shuichi leaps out of bed, hurriedly pulling on his jacket, nearly tripping over his own toes in the process. He all but flies out the door, running as fast as his legs will carry him, until he finally catches up to Kirumi, who doesn't so much as look at him as he stumbles into place beside her.

"Where the..." he gasps, doubling over and planting his hands on his knees. "Where are we even _going?"_

"We," mutters Kirumi, tugging one arm through her coatsleeve, "are going to pay someone a visit." 

The tone of her voice makes it clear it's not a suggestion.

~+~

Kirumi says nothing as the two of them walk down the winding city streets. She says nothing in the station, nothing on the train, and nothing as they trek through a neighborhood he doesn't recognize. He raises an eyebrow as she stops at a florist's, wordlessly receiving a large paper-wrapped bouquet of flowers from the girl behind the counter. But they continue to walk, the sun ducking out of sight behind the rooftops, the uphill road growing ever steeper, until at least the endless rows of apartments break as they reach the top of the hill. And then Shuichi sees it. There, nestled behind a stone wall and an ornate wrought-iron fence, lie rows and rows of stones, each marker bearing a name chiseled into its front in well-worn kanji script.

It's a graveyard.

Shuichi freezes. "Why... why are you taking me here?" He demands, fear creeping into his tone. "Why now? What are we _doing_ here?"

Kirumi abruptly stops and pivots on her heels to face him. "Something we should have done a long time ago," she says flatly.

Shuichi looks away and wrings his hands. "But... I can't," he protests. "You know there's no way I can-"

 _"No way I can face them,_ correct?" Kirumi's face doesn't betray a hint of emotion. "Will it be any easier tomorrow, or the day after that? You mustn't keep hiding from this forever, Shuichi."

 _"Hiding?"_ Shuichi scowls. "I'm not hiding from anything! It's just that... what good does any of this do? How is this supposed to help-"

"At the risk of sounding cliche, Shuichi, you cannot face the future if you are forever hung up on the past." She thrusts the bouquet into his hands. "This is as good an opportunity as any to make amends."

"No, but... I'm still not..." Shuichi looks uneasily at the expensive-looking bouquet, before the sound of clicking heels rings out and cuts short his train of thought. He looks up to find Kirumi walking away, passing through the gate and weaving through the rows of headstones. "Wait, where do you think you're-"

"I have my own matters to attend to here," Kirumi replies, not looking back. "I will be waiting for you when you are finished. See you shortly." 

Shuichi reaches out after her fast-fading back and tries to protest, but then she turns past a row of headstones and vanishes from sight. He stares in disbelief, helplessly gripping at the flowers, before he gives up with a loud sigh, following the maid's footsteps into the cemetery. 

He grits his teeth and clutches tighter at the bouquet as he weaves slowly through the rows of graves, scattered leaves and branches softly crunching underfoot. He silently scans the names inscribed on the stones as he slowly creeps along. Part of him almost hopes that he won't find any he recognizes, that Kirumi made a mistake, that he'll soon go home and pretend all of this never happened. But of course, the Ultimate Maid makes no such mistakes. 

The first grave he finds is that of Rantaro Amami.

His tomb looks perhaps more like a shrine, surrounded by new-looking flowers and offerings, even merchandise bearing the numbers 52 and 53. Evidently, he was quite the fan favorite - perhaps befitting of a series veteran, of the Ultimate Survivor.

The image flashes through Shuichi's mind of his blood-soaked corpse lying sprawled across the library floor, specks of gore matted on his unruly green hair, and his cold, unmoving eyes staring up from the surface of a Monopad, defaced by the word _DEAD_. 

_(The victim is Rantaro Amami. His Ultimate talent is unknown. The victim's body was discovered in the library. The estimated time of death is 9:10 p.m...)_

He grits his teeth and forces the macabre scenes away. He can't afford to lose his nerve now. He slowly takes a deep breath as he retrieves a flower from his bouquet. "You... were right," he laments, his eyes falling to the ground. "You were always right in the end. We were on the same side. If only... if only we could have worked together."

 _If only I had let you,_ a voice in the back of his mind adds. Bowing his head, he weakly places down the flower and mutters one last goodbye before rising to his feet and weaving through the cemetery once more.

Not far away he finds a grave marked _Gokuhara_ underneath a barren tree, the diminutive headstone hardly befitting of the late gentle giant. An assortment of loose petals and half-wilted flowers lies scattered across the ground in front - though whether they're from relatives or from Danganronpa fans, he can't tell. His mouth twists into half a smile - maybe he really did have two families. Although he seriously doubts that either of them were really wolves.

Even with his harmless, carefree demeanor, Gonta was a fighter. Fiercely protective, both of his friends and of his precious insects. But that unwavering selflessness, the hallmark of a true gentleman, did little to help him in the end, did little to save him from the machinations of his killer. Did he know too much? Was he simply in the wrong place at the wrong time? Whatever Gokuhara might have known, he ultimately took to the grave.

"Thank you, Gonta," Shuichi says quietly, laying a flower down atop the stone. "You truly were the perfect gentleman... to the bitter end." The entomologist doesn't respond - how could he? - but even still, Shuichi can somehow hear the sound of his typical giddy laugh, and see his face lighting up with glee at the praise. 

_(The victim is Gonta Gokuhara, the Ultimate Entomologist. The victim's body was discovered in the gymnasium. The time of death is unknown. The victim was subjected to numerous severe lacerations...)_

He suddenly doubles over, that noxious, unberable, all-too-familiar smell of death filling his nose as he resists the urge to retch. That it's all in his head makes no difference. One hand covers his mouth as he tries to force the memory away, the horrible scenes of Gonta lying lifeless against the gymnasium wall, sitting in a pool of his own blood, his neck torn open by the murderer's blade. 

He slowly rises to his feet, bracing himself with one hand against the nearby tree, and weakly shambles away. _I'm sorry I couldn't save you,_ he hears himself think.

He has little to say to the next few plots he visits - a simple prayer for Angie, a curt and awkward farewell to Miu, each gesture of respect tainted by the lingering doubt that nothing he could say would ever be enough. Some of them he never knew that well, some he butted heads with, some even bore the title of the blackened. But maybe Gonta was right... maybe one day, he would have known them for who they really were. In a different world, they could have all been friends. 

He does his best to keep himself together, to not shatter into pieces when he finds the name _Momota_. He owes the Luminary of the Stars that minimal honor, at least. But when he places the flower down, a pretty white edelweiss, he thinks of their training, their camaraderie, and, yes, even that time Kaito punched him in the face, and he feels a lump rise in his throat. Kaito - poor, doomed, heroic Kaito, who lived every moment knowing it could have been his last. Who refused to let the mastermind claim him even in death, dying peacefully amongst the stars before crashing down to earth. Maybe he had gotten the last laugh in the end, one final poke in the ringleader's eye, but what did it matter in the end? The _real_ mastermind, the one tens of millions strong, had loved every minute of it. 

Was it really all for nothing?

Shuichi stands there hanging his head, one fist clenching and unclenching at his side, biting his tongue and fighting desperately to hold back the tears as he stares down the grave of the Ultimate Astronaut. 

If Shuichi had just seen through Kokichi's ploy, Kaito wouldn't have been captured.

If he had just found the truth sooner, their scheme, their sacrifice, wouldn't have been necessary.

If only he wasn't such an _idiot._

Kaito was his mentor, his best friend, and yet so much more than that. His lifeline, his source of courage... but in the end, what was his sacrifice for? So that Shuichi, weak, useless little Shuichi, could survive?

Shuichi tries his hardest to hold firm, to put on a brave face like Kaito would have done, but then his resolve crumbles to dust and he staggers away from the grave, lest his friend see him acting pathetic for even a moment longer.

He stumbles along from one grave to the next, the regrets piling up on him with each flower he lays before their names.

To Ryoma - _I'm sorry I wasn't there for you._

To Tenko - _I'm sorry I was such a weakling._

To Kokichi - _I'm sorry I never understood you._

He grits his teeth and his grip tightens on the slowly dwindling bouquet. They pinned their hopes on him, and he let them all down. He promised to end the killing game, he promised that they'd escape. But they never did. 

He continues his procession, slowly making his way up and down the rows of headstones. With each fallen classmate he visits and each offering he leaves, the apologies escape his lips in a never-ending stream.

_I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry._

No sooner does he finish his farewell to Himiko than he hears the sound of footsteps. His head jerks upwards and he finds the former Ultimate Maid trudging his way, hands shoved in her pockets and face locked into a scowl.

"There's someone you should see further that way," she says quietly, nodding in the direction from which she came. Shuichi opens his mouth to respond, some vague and noncommittal acknowledgement, but then his reply dies in his throat when he looks up at her face. It could be his imagination - maybe just a trick of the light - but for a split second he spots the trace of tears in her one visible eye.

Shuichi rises to his feet and takes a cautious step towards her. "Kirumi? Are you alri-"

Her eye narrows. "Of course I am," she says curtly, ducking her head down and tugging her scarf over her nose. "But I have no more business here. I will be waiting for you outside." Before he can press her further she brushes past him and storms off, leaving him alone in confused silence. 

_What was that about?_ he mouths, but he receives no reply, and in the end he has no choice but to shake his head and continue trudging down the graveyard on his own.

He spots a small, nondescript headstone further down the row, a smattering of flowers and a Monokuma plushie scattered on the ground before it. He stiffens at the sight. Another _Danganronpa_ character. He cautiously steps closer, looking curiously for the name, but then his heart freezes and he comes to an abrupt halt at the sight of the kanji spelling _Shirogane._

Shuichi draws closer to the grave, clutching tighter at the now half-empty bouquet. He stands there paralyzed, utterly helpless, searching desperately for the right words as he stares down the grave of the one who imprisoned them all in the Academy, who took his friends' lives away from them, who practically _created_ them all. But something continues to eat at him. What is it that he's feeling, standing over her tomb? Is it fear? Is it loathing? Is it pity?

No, he realizes after a while. All he feels is _numb._

Even if she was the mastermind, for reasons he can't put into words he still can't bring himself to hate her. He knows what she's done, the great lengths she went to to invent their memories and personalities, to pit them against each other, to make them all suffer for the amusement of the audience. But easy though it would be to pin the blame on her, to gnash his teeth and pull at his hair and curse her name, he knows in his heart that it wouldn't be deserved. She was but a mere cog in the corporate machine that is _Danganronpa_. Killing her was hardly the justice his friends deserved.

And besides... the Ultimate Cosplayer lived for her work. _Danganronpa_ was her whole world. She would have given everything, even her own life, for the sake of her own creation. To be part of something greater than herself. And then Shuichi thinks back to the past, to the memory of a skittish boy in a baseball cap and a poorly-fitting uniform, excitedly babbling about his sheer love for the game that he would one day give his life to, and he twists his mouth into a crooked grimace.

Maybe they weren't as different as he would like to believe.

"Just to be clear, I don't forgive you," he says aloud. "And I don't think I ever will. But... maybe I understand you, if only a little bit." 

He can almost hear her scoff, shaking her head as she derides his naivete. But even still, he forces himself to hold his head high as he leaves a flower on her grave and walks away. 

He's not doing this for her.

The last traces of daylight vanish as he makes his rounds, giving his last goodbyes to his friends one by one, until at last the moment he dreaded finally arrives. One flower remains unplaced, one final classmate remains to face. Shuichi feels his heart quicken as he grips onto the last flower. He slowly walks down the last row of headstones, slowly scanning the names, until he recognizes one and freezes in place.

There, chiseled in elaborate kanji script, lies the name _Akamatsu,_ staring up at him from the surface of the tombstone.

He feels his strength leave him and he falls to his knees. He becomes dimly aware of the tears welling up in his eyes and running down his cheeks, his chest heaving with each pained breath as he finally gives in, hitching and sobbing as he lets loose the the tears, the grief, he wouldn't let himself feel. He hugs the near-empty bouquet to his chest and cries and cries for her, for that poor, sweet girl who found him in the winding halls of the Academy, who trusted him and cared for him and gave him courage, whose noble heroism proved her own downfall. What could he say, what could he _ever_ say to her now? What could possibly make up for how he so failed her?

 _I miss you,_ he whispers over the sound of his grief. _I miss you. I need you. I love you._ Every word, every plea, every apology he wishes she could hear escapes from his lips all at once, washing together in an unintelligible mess. 

"It should have been you," he whispers. "You wouldn't have lost hope... you wouldn't have hesitated, wouldn't have given up... it should be you who made it out." His breath runs out and he bows his head, all but keeling over. "Kaede, I... I'm sorry. I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm..."

He stops as it finally hits him. _I'm sorry._ That was what he was going to say again. That's all he's been saying, the whole time he's been here. _I'm sorry I couldn't protect you. I'm sorry I couldn't save you._

_I'm sorry we couldn't escape together._

But maybe if his friends were here, they wouldn't want an apology. They wouldn't want him to cry, or lash out, or sink further into his own self-pity. He thinks of Kaito, pumping a fist and roaring at him to be a man. He thinks of Kokichi, staring down at him with a lopsided sneer, asking if that's all it takes to make him give up. And he thinks of Kaede, brushing away his tears with one finger and smiling as she always does, urging him to go on, to carry her final wish forward.

He kneels in silence before Kaede's grave, sniffling quietly as he wipes his tears away with one hand, forcing himself to smile with all his might, as pathetic and crooked a smile though it may be. "Yeah, that's right... it was you who I saw first after falling out of that locker. You believed in me. Even when no one else would... even when I wouldn't. Just like you believed in all of us." His voice grows quieter still, as if making a sacred vow. "You wished that we'd all escape, and that we'd end that stupid game forever. It might be too late for most of us now, but even so... I know what I have to do now." 

The memories of the killing game flood back to him again, those same nightmarish scenes of death and despair, of murders and trials and executions and heartbreak and anguish. But though each one strikes at him like a knife to the heart, gruesome, painful, and full of despair, this time his spirit refuses to break, refuses to shatter, instead fortified and reforged with his newfound resolve.

One hand balls into a fist. "I'll... end _Danganronpa_. I don't know how, but... I'll find a way. No matter how long it takes, no matter who tries to stop me... I'll never give up. Not now. Not until... your wish is finally made real. And that's my promise to you." 

He slowly reaches into the bouquet and retrieves the last flower, a beautiful, delicate pink rose. He gently lays it down in front of her name and smiles, gazing longingly at her name through tear-strewn eyes. "Thank you, Kaede... I'll never forget you."

A sudden breeze blows through the graveyard, the leaves and branches around him quietly rustling in the wind. And for the briefest moment in time he can hear it, the beautiful melody of the Ultimate Pianist's final gift - the chords of _Clair de Lune_ echoing one last time from somewhere far beyond his reach.

~+~

The sun has long since vanished by the time Shuichi finally leaves the graveyard. He looks left and right for his erstwhile companion, and for a split second wonders if she abandoned him, too tired or upset to stay by his side. But soon he finds her, standing by the railing of a nearby overlook, staring blankly out towards the neon-lit city stretching for miles in all directions.

Shuichi sidles up beside her and awkwardly clears his throat. "I... I think I'm done here."

"Good," Kirumi murmurs, not looking his way. "Do you feel any better?"

 _No,_ he almost replies, as if on instinct. _Not yet,_ he thinks next, but can't bring himself to say that either. He shoves his hands into his pockets and sighs. "...Yeah. I do."

Kirumi doesn't move. "I see." She doesn't sound convinced.

They sink into an awkward silence, broken only by the wind and the distant sounds of the city, neither one looking at the other. Shuichi stares into the ground and frowns, taking a deep breath as he builds up his courage. "This... can't go on."

Kirumi turns to him in surprise. "...Sorry?"

 _"Danganronpa,"_ he clarifies. "Fifty-three seasons of it, right? And that won't be the last of it, either."

"That is certainly true, but... why bring that up now?"

"I made a promise," Shuichi says firmly. "That I would find out the truth and end the killing game. Our game might be finished, but the next one and the one after that and the one after that..." He stares into the ground. "I... still haven't kept my promise."

Kirumi pauses. "Just a minute, what... what are you suggesting?"

Shuichi looks her straight in the eye, not moving a muscle. "I'm going to end _Danganronpa_. Once and for all."

That seems to get her attention. "Well... that's, er..." Kirumi stops and starts, her expression flickering between shock and disbelief. "How on earth do you expect to do that?"

"The whole world was watching us," Shuichi continues, one hand clenching at his side. "They watched our every move, watched us make friends, make enemies, watched us trust and doubt and love and hate each other, just for the payoff of our so-called happy ending. If they can be moved by our feelings in the game... there's no reason they shouldn't be moved in the real world, too."

Kirumi blinks. "But... all of that was fiction. A mere lie. Do you expect the world to so readily change because of-"

"Ultimate Real Fiction," Shuichi cuts in. "That's what they called it, right? A lie so believable it could move the world to despair... or to hope. If they believe at all in that, then even if it's all lies, they know that fiction can change the world."

Kirumi's eyes flicker away and she purses her lips, as if processing his words. "But..."

"We'll show them. Even if we're all fictional, even if everything we know is a lie, we're not just their playthings. We're not their toys to be manipulated and thrown away. One way or another, we'll make the world learn... we'll end _Danganronpa_ with our own hands." He sighs and looks away. "I know it won't be easy. I have no clue if it's even possible. But, if nothing else... I owe it to them to try. Kaede, Kaito... all of them." 

Kirumi pauses. "Shuichi..."

Shuichi looks up into her eyes. "No matter how long it takes, no matter how many times I fail... I'll keep trying. Until that stupid game is finally gone for good. But... I know I can't do it alone. I need an ally, someone I can count on. So... will you help me?"

Kirumi stares at him in silence, still processing his words, before she turns away with a sigh and looks off into the distance again. "That is quite the request, Shuichi. Vowing to end the killing games which people so fanatically love... do you intend to make an enemy of the entire world?" She pauses to draw in a breath. "But I do not disagree."

Shuichi's heart skips. "You... don't?"

"I know that I can never take back what I did," she says quietly. "Both what I did to Tsumugi... and how I failed all the rest. My duty as the Ultimate Maid is to serve others. To fulfill their desires, to help them reach their potential... to protect them. In that respect, I have undoubtedly failed. And that is forever my cross to bear." She grips tight onto the handrail. "But perhaps... I can fulfill my debt to them in their deaths as I never did in their lives. If that is what you desire... then I will stand by you every step of the way. As your maid, and..." she hesitates and slightly bows her head. "...and as your friend."

Shuichi breathes out sharply, somewhere between a sigh and a laugh, as he feels himself begin to smile. "...Yeah. I'll hold you to that."

They stand side-by-side on the edge of the hill, dwarfed by the glittering city before them, so small and insignificant, yet somehow renewed, given purpose, emboldened. Just the two of them against the world, this strange new world they've found themselves in, so familiar and yet so foreign. A world that would happily send them both to their graves for sport, a world that twists their suffering and despair into stories of hope.

A world that must be changed.

He feels something close around his fingers and he realizes it to be Kirumi's hand. He looks up at her in surprise, but she doesn't look back, still staring out into the endless ocean of light from the city below.

"Perhaps one day you will be at peace," she says softly. "With... everything that's happened." Her hold on his hand tightens.

Shuichi continues to stare. He breathes out slowly, his breath forming clouds in the cold air, before he squeezes her hand back and gently leans into her shoulder as he, too, gazes out onto the city below.

"I'm not," he says. "Not yet. But... maybe I'm getting there."

And maybe that's all they need.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, it wasn't as much of a downer as it could have been. 
> 
> I did name this after the Gorillaz song of the same title, but the song that was actually in my head the whole time was [ツキ by FAKE TYPE.](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fLWdIrYI1X8) Wait, doesn't the girl in the video remind you of someone...?
> 
> Next chapter whenever it's ready, or whenever I can't stand to work on it any longer. You know the drill.


	15. Saturday Morning Sunrise

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A maid has many obligations to her young master. Waking up alongside him, though, is perhaps a little beyond the scope of her duties... or at least, it would be, for anyone but Kirumi Tojo.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 10 was a hit. So you know what we need? How about Chapter 10 again, but shorter and generally worse? Just to make up for the downer that was _On Melancholy Hill,_ if nothing else.
> 
> Prepare to be jealous

Cold blue yields to warm gold on the walls of the bedroom, the color slowly shifting as dawn gives way to morning. Birdsong echoes in the distance and a clock atop the nightstand faintly ticks over, both quietly heralding the start of the new day. The gentle morning light casts a glow over the four-poster bed, rays of golden sun delicately filtering through the blinds.

A feminine figure weakly tosses and turns, emerging from beneath the covers with a loud yawn. She blinks several times and raises a hand to her face, shielding her eyes from the sudden light. She sleepily brushes her silvery bangs to one side, before lazily rolling to one side and squinting at the bedside clock.

Something shifts beneath the covers beside her. An unruly strand of raven hair curls up from underneath the sheets, soon followed by a pajama-clad arm reaching out and fumbling blindly for the blankets. A tired-looking boy slowly emerges, a pair of pale yellow eyes peering up at her from underneath his messy bangs. He slowly shakes himself awake, rubbing at his eyes with one hand. "Wha... Rumi...?"

Kirumi smiles, reaching out a hand and lovingly ruffling his hair. "Good morning, master."

"Muhhh...." Shuichi blinks sleepily, still only half awake. "What time is it...?"

"Seven-thirty sharp," she replies dutifully, "and time for my official duties to begin. Same as any other day."

Shuichi pouts. "...Really?"

"Yes, really." Kirumi shakes her head. "There you go, trying to lead me astray from my duty again. When will you learn...?" 

Shuichi gives her a pleading look. "...Do you _have_ to?"

She stares at him blankly. "You know the answer to that already."

Shuichi doesn't reply, face still locked into a pout. At last he closes his eyes and sighs, slowly rolling over and wrapping the bedsheets around him again. "...Fine. Just... I guess I'll see you later-"

Kirumi narrows her eyes. "I don't recall saying you were allowed to sleep in." 

Shuichi blinks. "What...?"

"It's time for you to get up as well, master." She lightly smacks his cheek with one hand, shaking him awake. "Come on now. Up you go."

Shuichi scowls. "But it's Saturday..."

"A weekend is no excuse for idleness," she scolds him. "There's plenty of work to be done and things to be studied. I promised you that I would help you reach your potential, Master Shuichi, and I have no intention of ev _ER-!_ " Her sentence morphs into a high-pitched gasp as Shuichi suddenly wraps his arms around her waist and pulls. _"What do you think you're doing?"_

He hugs her closer, mouth curling downwards into a pout. "Come on... just five more minutes..."

Kirumi steels herself and stands her ground, instead drawing in a breath and clicking her tongue. "Oh, no you don't. If I give in even once we'll both be here until noon. I know how these things work."

Shuichi falters. "That's not... true..." His tone of voice clearly says otherwise.

Kirumi smiles, victorious. "Is that all you can say? My, Master Shuichi, your argumentative skills must need more practice."

Shuichi pouts again. "Fine, fine... then here's my counterpoint." 

Without warning he grabs her shoulders and pulls her back down, ignoring her squeaks of protest as he maneuvers to her side and plants a kiss on her cheek.

He smiles wryly. "So, um... what do you say to that?"

Kirumi forces her eyes shut, swallowing nervously as her heart flutters. "That's... quite the rebuttal."

Shuichi chuckles. "I knew you'd like it. Oh, and... stop calling me _master,"_ he adds. "It just sounds so... _formal."_

Kirumi blinks. "...But you _are_ my master." One hand drifts to her chest in a near-salute. "A maid's duty to her master is paramount. I promised that I would give everything I have to y-"

"Again with that?" Shuichi shakes his head. "Is everything work-related with you? Why not just... _Shuichi?"_

Kirumi hesitates for a brief moment. "...out of the question." She turns up her nose. "That would hardly be respectful. It would hardly be professional. It wouldn't be right to..."

Her words die mid-sentence as Shuichi wilts, mouth curled and brows slightly raised in his trademark sad smile. Kirumi sighs, looking away and trying to ignore how much the sight makes her think of an abandoned kitten. After many awkward, painful seconds, she finally gives up, turning back to the boy and slowly drawing in a breath. "...very well, then... _Shuichi."_ Even something that simple is enough to make her heart skip a beat. She purses her lips and stares into her pillow, silently praying her young master didn't notice.

Unfortunately for her, Shuichi's face lights up and his mouth curls into a knowing smirk. "Wait, don't tell me you're _embarrassed?"_

"Of- _of course not,"_ Kirumi says, a little too quickly. 

"So you can share a bed with me, but get shy when calling me by my _name?"_

Kirumi's face flushes red and she scowls. "Quiet, you."

Shuichi's smirk grows wider. "What was that about argumentative skills again?"

"Shush." Now it's Kirumi's turn to pout.

Shuichi reaches out with both hands and guides her head closer, gently scratching behind her ears. Kirumi squirms in place, scowling. "What do you think you're doing," she whines. "I am your _maid_ , not your _pet."_ But then his fingers drift to the back of her neck and she tenses, making a high-pitched, undignified, and very conspicuous noise. One that sounds exactly like mewling.

Her face goes tomato-red as Shuichi bursts into a quiet laugh. "Who said you could do that," she mumbles.

Shuichi giggles again, eyes twinkling with mischievous delight. "I didn't know you _meowed..."_

Kirumi huffs. "I do _not,"_ she protests, but her complaint falls on deaf ears as Shuichi continues to stifle his laughter. "You always do this," Kirumi fumes. "All this teasing. It's so embarrassing..."

"Come on, it's cute..."

"It's _humiliating,"_ Kirumi insists. "I have a reputation to uphold, you know."

"...Maybe. But you know?" He breaks out into another lopsided smile as his arms fall down to her waist. "I... really love that about you. This side of you that only I get to see..."

"You make it sound so scandalous," Kirumi fusses. She curses quietly under her breath even as she lets herself draw closer. How did this happen? The spitting image of diligence, beauty, and grace, and what of her now? Just a helpless, stammering, blushy mess, reduced to putty in the hands of her master. She lets out a loud, exasperated sigh and collapses, one hand drifting over her eyes. "Look what you've done to me," she mutters, the warmth of her face all but scalding her fingertips. "I'm the illustrious Ultimate Maid... "

"Not here, you're not." Shuichi snuggles closer to her, letting out a pure and innocent-sounding giggle. "Here, you're just Rumi."

"Augh..." Kirumi's other hand covers her face as she forces her eyes shut. "Look at this. You've ruined me. If word of this gets out..."

"It won't." The teasing lilt fades from his voice, traded for a reassuring, gentle warmth. "It's just our secret... just you and me. Detective's honor." He squeezes her closer.

Kirumi grimaces again, the heat in her cheeks growing unbearable. With a quiet groan she rolls to one side, both arms slipping around Shuichi's shoulders. "I knew it. I've spoiled you rotten. This is exactly what I feared..."

"Yeah. Guilty as charged." He gently nuzzles her again. "You spoil me all the time, but I like you all the more for it."

"Guh," Kirumi chokes. "Flattery will get you nowhere."

Shuichi sighs softly and sheepishly smiles. "Honestly... how did I ever end up with someone as sweet as you? Maybe I'm really the Ultimate Lucky Student..." He sighs. "I don't deserve you."

Kirumi pauses. "...Sorry?"

"Someone as amazing as you, settling for little old me..." Shuichi's eyes flutter closed and his smile seems to slip. "I really don't-" 

_"That's enough of that."_ Kirumi's voice cuts through the air, silencing Shuichi before he can say another word. "Joking or not, I _cannot_ allow you to say things like that."

Shuichi blinks. "Huh? Where's... where's this coming from?"

"Because..." She pauses, silence hanging heavy in the air for several drawn-out seconds, before she takes a breath and speaks again. "Shuichi." The nervousness vanishes from Kirumi's voice as her features harden. "Do you remember what I told you all that time ago? My standard rate is ten thousand dollars per day... but when I serve you, it is not about the money." Her hand slowly closes around his, delicately interlacing their fingers. "Nor is it about my reputation, or my honor."

Shuichi falters. "But..."

"No matter how little regard you may hold for your abilities... I serve you because I see greatness within you. Your wisdom, your intellect... your kindness. I _know_ the gifts you hold, Shuichi, and I will stop at nothing to make the world know them too." Kirumi nods. "No matter what... even if I were rendered penniless, even if my name were dragged through the mud... I would remain by your side. Because I care about you, and... because I love you." She squeezes his hand. 

"Kirumi..." Shuichi's voice wavers. 

"So... yes, Shuichi, you do 'deserve' me. I will tell you as many times as you need, I will show you any way I can... until you one day see yourself the way I do. For the wonderful person that you are. And that... is my promise to you." She bows her head, gently touching her forehead to his. "Okay?"

Shuichi's eyes flicker away and he purses his lips in doubt, and Kirumi's heart drops into her stomach with worry. But then she feels Shuichi's hand squeeze hers back as he breaks out into another quiet laugh. "You've... been sitting on that for a long time, haven't you?"

Kirumi tenses. "S-so what if I have?" she scowls. "For the love of... I pour my heart out to you, and _this_ is how you respond?" She pouts. _"Unbelievable._ You're the worst. I can't-"

"Kirumi, listen." Shuichi cuts her off. His hold on her waist tightens. "I... thank you. I might not be the best with words, but... thanks. It... it means a lot to me." That gentle smile of his returns, that simple yet undeniably adorable smile that melts Kirumi's heart anew.

Even those simple words are enough to burn Kirumi's irritation to ash. She sighs, slowly shaking her head as the tension drains from her body. "...Worry not, I understand." Kirumi closes her eyes and smiles. "So put your worries to rest. No matter what happens, no matter the situation, I will remain forever by your side. As your maid, and as your... your g-..." Kirumi smile falters as she chokes on the last word.

The corner of Shuichi's mouth curls upwards. "Oh?"

"Your g-... your girlfr-..."

"Keep going, you're almost there."

"As your _lover,"_ Kirumi spits out instead, face reddening as her hold on his hand tightens to a death grip.

Shuichi rears back and his eyes go wide. He covers his mouth with one hand and blushes, forcing himself to look away. "It... it sounds so much more official when you say it like that..."

"Shut up," Kirumi mumbles. But even she can't suppress a smile, seeing Shuichi's spirit restored. 

The conversation runs dry and the two opt for just lying together in silence, dead quiet save for the distant chirping of birds and the sound of their gentle breaths. Kirumi knows it's silly and doesn't even want to _think_ how she must look right now, but here by his side, she just can't stop _smiling._ God, she can't even remember the last time she smiled like this. Maybe that's what Shuichi really did to her, she thinks quietly. Despite her complaining, he didn't 'ruin' her or make her 'go soft'... but he just made her happy, for the first time in a long time - and just maybe she did the same for him.

And wasn't his happiness the reason she served in the first place?

She squeezes Shuichi close in another protective hug, heart fluttering with joy when she feels him hug her back. It's silly, yes, unprofessional, and all those other things she said too... but maid though she is, she can't help but wish that things could be like this forever. Just him, her, and all the time in the world.

_...wait, time...?_

She suddenly releases Shuichi from her arms and rolls over again, ignoring his muted protests. She squints at the bedside clock once more, eyes widening as she reads the time seven forty-five staring her in the face. Fifteen minutes already? Just where did the time go? 

Stifling a groan she slowly sits up on the bed, raising both arms above her head in a stretch and yawning. "Goodness, I'm late... come along, Shuichi. We really must be going."

Shuichi says nothing, opting instead to give her the most pitiable puppy-dog eyes in the world.

Kirumi tries not to scowl, torn between the overwhelming cuteness, and the undeniable fact that he's manipulating her. In the end she gives up and falls for the deception anyway. "Ah... just this once, I suppose I can allow you to rest, as a treat." She sighs, reluctantly ruffling the detective's hair again. "Don't make me regret this."

Shuichi breaks out into another sheepish half-smile. "Oh? But I didn't even ask you to-"

Kirumi purses her lips. "You don't waste any time when it comes to teasing me, do you?" She swings her legs out from the bed and fights another yawn. "No matter... I must hurry. I am already far behind schedule. I-" she tenses. "What is it now?"

Shuichi's arms have closed around her waist again. He looks up at her with the most heartbroken face imaginable. "You don't have to go, do you...? _Kirumi..."_

Kirumi's spine tingles at the way he calls her name, but she bites her tongue and refuses to give in. "Shuichi, we have been over this before. I cannot just abandon my obligations to-"

"...You're so cute. Rumi." Shuichi's hold on her suddenly tightens and he gently nuzzles against her.

"What are you doing? S _-stop,"_ Kirumi insists, slowly shrinking away from him. This is obviously his trap. She's not falling for it, not this time.

"So cute."

She squirms. _"Stop it."_

Shuichi ignores her, instead closing his eyes, pulling her closer, and planting a gentle kiss on her neck.

Kirumi's eyes go wide and a switch in her suddenly flips. She stays frozen in place and Shuichi's smile falters, but no sooner does he ask her what's wrong than she grabs his collar with both hands, yanks him forward, and roughly locks lips with his.

Shuichi's courage shatters under the weight of her counterattack. He squirms and wriggles, face exploding in a furious blush that looks every bit as hot as Kirumi feels, but bit by bit his resistance dwindles and he leans further into the kiss, growing more helpless, more needy, until he is every bit trapped under her spell.

Only then does she release him, the two slowly drifting apart, eyes locked and hearts racing. Steadying herself with one hand over her heart, she forces herself to take deep breaths. She has the advantage. Time to deal the final blow.

Kirumi smiles coquettishly as she leans in and touches a finger to his lips. "That's what you get for teasing me," she whispers.

Shuichi stammers and sweats, still beet-red. "...guh," is all he can say, before the last of his strength abandons him and he collapses into her embrace.

Kirumi smirks, triumphant. _"I win,"_ she coos softly into his ear.

"Ugh," Shuichi mumbles, face buried in her chest.

She pats the back of his head and turns to one side, gently easing him back down onto the pillows. "Enjoy your rest, Shuichi. I suppose I will summon you for lunchtime later. I-" She feels his hand close around her wrist. She stares down at him with a disapproving frown. Evidently, he still hasn't lost the last will to fight. 

"C'mon... stay..." The word escapes his lips in a sleepy, barely audible whisper. 

"...Again?" The sight pulls mercilessly at Kirumi's heartstrings, but she grits her teeth and refuses to surrender. "Shuichi, you know I can't."

"Why not," Shuichi mumbles.

"Why not? Have you been listening to anything I've said? As your personal maid, I am expected to work diligently to support your future. I've already let you sleep in, it would be disgraceful for me to give in as well-" But before she can even finish Shuichi goes limp, swept away to the land of dreams once more. Kirumi sighs, exasperated. Of course. Typical.

Yet she doesn't move at first, still cradling Shuichi in her arms. She has to admit she's tempted... but even a lovestruck schoolgirl would know she's wasted far too much time already. The halls need sweeping, breakfast needs cooking... what sort of Ultimate Maid can't even do that? But one look at Shuichi's face and her objections shatter to pieces. How could she ever disturb the angel sleeping peacefully in her arms?

She sighs yet again, more in resignation than anything else, as she feels herself drifting back to his side. Damn this boy, damn him, and how he so easily disarms her, wins her over, turns her heart to mush. "Just this once," she mumbles softly, sinking into the bed and pulling her master closer. "I suppose we can call this a draw." For a brief and fleeting moment she spies Shuichi's mouth curling into an adorable little smile that shatters her defenses anew.

She weakly tugs the blankets back over them both, her strength starting to fade. Her maid duties will have to wait - her duty here by his side is far greater. _He really is a bad influence,_ Kirumi thinks to herself with a smile, before her mind clouds over and she drifts off into a quiet, blissful sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sheesh. These two really are all offense, no defense. Just call me for the wedding.
> 
> Also tiny callback to Chapter 1, because even though it's stupid it's very cute.


	16. Servant of the State - Part I

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Protect and serve, but never trust - that's the only way to survive.
> 
> That's what Ultimate Detective Kirumi Tojo has told herself all these years. One doesn't get to head the homicide division in the Tokyo Metropolitan Police by being sentimental, especially at her age. Only unwavering commitment and dedication to her task keep her going, through all the spilled blood and shed tears the job entails.
> 
> But being trapped in the Ultimate Academy for Gifted Juveniles and forced into a killing game is no ordinary case. Surrounded by the unfamiliar faces of fifteen other Ultimates, this is one job she can't do alone, and she might just find an ally in an unlikely source... the Ultimate Butler, Shuichi Saihara.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, here we are, after a month of radio silence. I'd say RIP to any chance of a consistent upload cadence, but I think it's been dead for a long time now.
> 
> DISCLAIMER: This is not going to be a full-on killing game fic with all six chapters and a conclusive ending. This is still a shipping-centric fic, after all. I intend for this to be probably three parts of roughly equal length, but maybe I'll end up reposting it in its own entry once it's finished, depending on reception.
> 
> Enjoy...?

Kirumi Tojo awakens in a pitch-black void.

Her eyes flit open and she lets out a dull groan, a dull ache gnawing at the back of her skull. She blinks once, twice, three times, but nothing comes into focus - just black impermeable darkness, as far as her half-closed eyes can see. Is she still dreaming? Is she sleepwalking? Oh, she _knew_ she shouldn't have pulled that all-nighter the other day.

She mumbles something unintelligible under her breath, sleepily letting herself fall forward. She doesn't get far before her nose bashes into something cold and metallic. Some kind of wall stands in the way, halting her progress before she's even moved an inch. She tries to move left, then right, then backwards, but only finds cold, unyielding metal on all sides, as if burying her in a tomb.

Realization kicks in and her heart freezes in her chest. It's a _box_. She's _trapped in a box._

"No..." she whispers, her mind fast clouding with all her myriad fears - she's been sold out, she's been captured, she's been _betrayed...!_ Her body seizes with terror, claustrophobia fast kicking in, and she starts frantically pounding her fists on the wall. _"No, no, no, nonono no **no....!"**_

She bites her tongue and cuts her whimpering short, steadying herself with one hand over her heart and forcing herself to slow down. _Deep breaths, Kirumi,_ she reminds herself. _You didn't become the Ultimate Detective by panicking._ Once her heart finally slows to a non-lethal rate she slowly reaches out again, tracing over the cold metal wall before her with a gloved finger. Before long her finger stops, finding a corner, and she slowly traces down the seam, feeling out the edge of her impromptu cage.

This cell she's in is small, no more than two feet by two feet. No signs of any holes or windows, except a trio of vents directly in front of her. No obvious signs of any equipment, but several lines of holes dotting each wall - probably for screwing in something, like shelving. If she had to guess, it's almost exactly like the lockers you'd find in any high school. 

She purses her lips and nods slowly. That's better. There's the deductive skill she's supposedly famous for. But none of that matters if she can't get out. She winds up with one fist and pounds on the door once more - if it even is a door - but apart from making a lot of noise she achieves very little. 

She grits her teeth, nursing her sore hand. No choice, she supposes. She'll have to kick it down. Taking a deep breath, she drives one heel into the ground at her feet, slamming the other into the door with a deafening _CLANG_. No dice. It doesn't even flinch. She pulls back and kicks again, the end result no different from the first. Frustration builds and she hears herself start to growl. _"Move,_ damn you!" she hisses as she winds up one last time, driving her heel into the door with a loud, guttural scream. 

With the sound of shrieking metal the locker finally bursts open, light flooding inside as Kirumi shields her eyes and suppresses a hiss. After several seconds of blindness, staying frozen in a pained squint, her eyes adjusting to her surroundings and revealing the outline of a room outside. No use in standing around, she reckons. Taking a deep breath, she stiffly adjusts the lapels on her jacket, before placing one foot forward and cautiously stepping out into the light.

Almost immediately, she recognizes the room as a classroom. Dozens of desks sit in well-organized rows, a matching chair neatly placed behind each one. A projector hangs down from the ceiling, old and disused, and a blackboard at the room's front bears only an old message reading welcome! and a crude doodle of what looks like a teddy bear. Rows of lights line the ceiling, but not a single one remains on, leaving the room dark save for the sunlight filtering through the shutters covering each window.

Kirumi reaches down and draws a finger across a desk's surface, frowning as she examines the fine layer of dust newly accumulated on her fingertip. Wherever she is, the facilities clearly haven't been in use for a while. Months, at least, even years. But then she notices something green and leafy in the back corner of the room, snaking up the walls and across the ceiling, coiling around the lights, the clock, even some of the desks. Ivy. 

Kirumi sighs. "So much for my powers of deduction," she mumbles bitterly. Has this place been abandoned for _centuries?_ She notices something bright red strung criss-crossed across the windows, every now and then clumped into a knot with nasty-looking spikes. She cautiously steps closer and raises a hand to the wire, running a finger down its length and testing its tension. Barbed wire.

Whoever last ran this place really didn't want anyone getting in. _Or out,_ she thinks with a shudder.

_**BANG!** _

A loud noise sounds behind her and she jumps, her heart all but freezing at the shock. She whips around and frantically searches for the source - it's coming from a locker on the other side of the room, identical to the one she was trapped in. The locker shakes again with another loud bang, Kirumi flinching at the impact, and a muffled noise sounds from within, somewhere between a shout and a pained groan. 

_Something's trying to get out._

Her eyes dart back and forth, scanning the room as she takes a cautious step back. This isn't good. She needs something, _anything_ , she can use as a weapon. Her eyes fall upon the chairs by the desks. _Fine,_ she concedes, _it'll have to do._ She scrambles to the nearest desk and tugs at the chair behind it. It doesn't budge. Only then does she realize that it's bolted to the floor. 

Kirumi's breath hisses out through her teeth. "Right," she mutters. "Unarmed combat it is." She takes a deep breath and slowly assumes a defensive stance, heart racing and hands shaking, as the banging grows louder and louder, until...

The locker door flies off its hinges with the sound of bending metal and a figure tumbles out, arms flailing uselessly and letting out a flustered yelp as it messily collapses to the floor. Kirumi tenses, but still doesn't move, curiously studying the intruder as she maintains her guard. 

He appears to be a boy, roughly the same age as her - not that she can definitively tell, not while he's flailing around, blindly fumbling for the hat lying not far away. His blueish-black hair hides his face, so Kirumi's eyes wander to his outfit - an immaculately tailored swallowtail coat complete with a bow tie, a waistcoat, and what even looks like a watch chain dangling from one pocket. He slowly raises his head and his eyes emerge from under his bangs, faded pewter irises meeting with Kirumi's own, but then his eyes go wide with panic and he lets out a frantic yelp. " _ **Gah!** D-don't hurt me..!"_ He falls over onto his backside again, scurrying away as fast as he can.

Kirumi finally lowers her hands with a quiet sigh. _This,_ she concludes, _is... probably not my captor._ "I... I apologize if I scared you," she begins, her voice softening as her pulse lowers to a safe rate. "Are you all right?" She steps closer and extends a hand this way, poring over his features for any hint of ill will or deceit.

The boy recoils away from her, shrinking away with his back against the wall, raising both hands to shield his face. _"Don't..."_ is all he can say.

Kirumi slowly takes another step closer, trying as hard as she can to not look threatening. "It's okay. I won't hurt you," she coaxes, silently hoping she means it.

"I..." the boy croaks, eyes darting left and right, panicked like a mouse. "...no, never mind. I... I'm okay." At last he gingerly reaches out and clasps his hand around hers, slowly rising to his feet as she pulls him upwards. His breath escapes his mouth in a disappointed sigh as he slowly plods over to retrieve his hat - and odd-looking baseball cap with three stripes around the back - and tugs it on over his head, hiding his face from view once more.

"Suppose that's my good deed for the day," mutters Kirumi under her breath. She folds her arms, her tone taking on a subtle, yet pointed edge. "If you don't mind - who _are_ you, exactly? I would like a name. First and last, preferably."

The boy squirms under her questioning. "M-me?"

"Unless there is someone _else_ here that I have failed to notice, yes."

He sighs, his shoulders sagging in defeat. "Oh... okay." He stands up straight and looks her in the eye, drawing in a deep breath. "I'm... Shuichi Saihara. I'm a high school student, and... part of the Ultimate Initiative. I'm supposed to be the Ultimate Butler, but..." Even the mention of his title seems to make him squirm.

Kirumi blinks. "Another Ultimate?"

"Yes, but..." Shuichi blinks as well. "Wait, 'another'...? You're one too?"

"Indeed. I... suppose I should introduce myself." Kirumi straightens her posture and tugs at her glove. "My name is Kirumi Tojo. Detective Chief Inspector, Tokyo Metropolitan Police. And, as you may have heard... the Ultimate Detective." She instinctively stands to attention and respectfully bows her head. "I hope I may be of assistance to you."

"H-hey! That's... _I_ should be saying that!" The gesture seems to make Shuichi's jitters worse and he recoils away from her, waving his hands. "I mean... I'm supposed to be a servant... you shouldn't be acting so formal around me, right? Th-that is, I'm just a butler, and you're someone who's obviously _way_ more important than-"

Kirumi clicks her tongue. "That's quite enough of that. We can compare resumes later, if it pleases you. But... Ultimate Butler? I didn't think they bestowed Ultimate titles for something so... _menial."_ One hand wanders to her chin and she frowns. "You must be truly exceptional at your work to be called something like that."

Shuichi sighs, looking away and wringing both hands. "Look, it... it wasn't that big of a deal. I did one job that people talked a lot about, and they gave me the title for..." he gives up with a dramatic sigh, slumping forward as his eyes fall to the floor. "I... guess it doesn't matter right now, does it? Especially considering how we... got here, and all."

 _That_ catches Kirumi's attention. "I'm sorry?"

"H-huh?" Shuichi blinks several times, before one hand flies to his hat and pulls the brim back over his eyes, his stature almost seeming to shrink as he sweats and mumbles. "Oh, no, I was just... saying things, I guess."

"Shuichi," she coaxes him, in as soothing a tone as she can manage, "I need you to help me. Please, what did you mean, 'how we got here'?"

Shuichi's jitters grow stronger. "S-seriously, it's nothing important. I was probably wrong anyway. I-"

Kirumi's temper flares. "Oh, _no_ you don't." She strides forward and roughly grabs hold of his shoulders, shaking the hapless butler back and forth. "You're going to tell me _everything_ you know, and _I'll_ decide if it's important or not. Understand?"

"Okay-okay- _okay!"_ Shuichi pleads, his voice wavering with each shake. "A-all I remember is some guys grabbing hold of me and shoving me into some kind of car!

 _"Who?"_ Kirumi demands, not letting him go. "Names? License plates? _Anything?"_

"I-I- _I don't know!"_ Shuichi yelps. "It all happened so fast, I couldn't... I couldn't see anything! I don't _remember_ anything!"

Kirumi raises an eyebrow. "You _forgot?_ Is that the best excuse you can come up with?"

"It's-it's _true!_ Everything after that's just... just a blur! Honest! Please, you... you have to believe me!" Shuichi's voice degrades into a whimper, as if on the verge of tears, and his resistance steadily fades as he is overcome with tremors. Kirumi opens her mouth to press him further, to ask him how _dare_ he tell such an obvious lie, but then something clicks in her brain and her limbs lock in place. 

The memories trickle back to her, piecemeal and disconnected. A city block in Tokyo - _which one,_ she wants to ask - the sound of squealing tires, the clatter of footsteps, the sickly-sweet smell of _something_ being forced over her mouth and nose - _c_ _hloroform,_ she deduces. The memories flicker and fade, their already sparse detail breaking down further still - she remembers being carried, she remembers the inside of the car, she remembers shouted words that she couldn't quite make out... then nothing. Just a vast, gaping chasm, all that remains between the memories of then and now. Whenever 'now' _is_ , of course.

Her mouth curls downward into a frown as she mentally scolds herself. How could she forget to mention something like _that?_ Oh, dear, she's _really_ off her game today. She finally releases her grasp on Shuichi's shoulders, the boy staggering away and whimpering quietly, as she turns around and puts a hand to her chin, gears in her mind grinding noisily. An apparent kidnapping, a headache, and issues with her memory... have her abductors possibly _drugged_ her? Her eyes wander back to Shuichi, who goes pale and suddenly takes a very strong interest in his shoes. If what this boy's saying is true - and he doesn't strike her as a liar, he doesn't strike her as _capable_ \- then he's in the same boat as her.

Which means, more importantly, that he genuinely doesn't know anything. Kirumi sighs as her hand drifts to her temples, the dull ache still pounding at the back of her skull. "So that's what happened," she mutters aloud. "Well... thank you, I suppose. Oh, and..." she swallows, a faint burning sensation creeping into her cheeks. "I... appear to have lost my temper. I apologize for, ah... _handling_ you like that."

Shuichi freezes for a moment, but then he laughs, a quiet and wheezing laugh, one that she can't quite place as genuine or not. "N-no, it's okay... probably deserved it, anyway..." One hand drifts to his shoulder and gives it a weak rub as his laughter fades.

Wordlessly, Kirumi's gaze drifts back to the windows, poring over the gnarly-looking barbs coating their surface. The wire doesn't seem insurmountable, but then again, if this school, if that's what it is, has _barbed wire_ coating the windows, there's no telling what else its owners might have done. She grimaces. "Getting out of here may not be as easy as I had hoped," she muses aloud. Her eyes come to rest on the butler again, who uncomfortably squirms under the pressure, and she tries to smile. "You... don't happen to be a SWAT butler, do you?" She winces the moment the words leave her mouth. That was _not_ funny at all.

Shuichi, for his part, doesn't seem to mind. "No, sorry... I'm not that kind of butler." He laughs again as his eyes flit away, a hint of regret creeping into his tone. "I'm just... _me._ For better or for worse."

Kirumi frowns again. "I see. But..." she narrows her eyes. "What sort of butler wears a _baseball cap?"_

Shuichi freezes. "Huh...?" His voice goes quiet, almost to a whisper, and for a brief moment she spies something swirling behind his pale yellow irises, deepening in shock as if he were struck by a bullet. "So what... _**so what** if I do?"_ he snaps at her, gnashing his teeth and violently jabbing a finger her way. "What's it matter to you!? I can wear a hat if I want!"

Kirumi recoils at his violent outburst. "I beg your pardon-"

"Who do you think you are!?" Shuichi hisses, his timid aura disintegrating. "I only just met you, and here you go interrogating me like some kind of _criminal?"_

"Shuichi," Kirumi pleads, now on the defensive, "I'm sorry, please calm down. I had no intention of causing you any-"

_Thump._

The two of them snap towards the direction of the sound - finding only the classroom wall staring back at them. 

_Thump_. The noise sounds again, the floor of the room jolting and every desk jumping along with it. Shuichi's anger deflates, quickly replaced by another emotion - _fear._ "What the hell was _that!?"_

"Stay back!" Kirumi orders, throwing out an arm and holding him back. "It could be dangerous!"

She hears the noise, again and again, the floor trembling and desks clattering with every beat, not even daring to _breathe_ as the sound draws nearer and nearer still.

_Thump. Thump. Thump._

_**BAM!** _

Something crashes through the wall with a deafening noise, sending bits of concrete and drywall scattering every which way. Shuichi falls over backwards with a loud yelp and on instinct Kirumi leaps in front of him, throwing her arms wide and shielding him from the carnage. But when the dust clears and she finally looks up, every muscle in her body goes rigid with terror.

The colossal form of a robot towers over her, a grotesque sinewy mass of valves and wires shielded behind a single armor plate. It stares down at her through a trio of eyes, each one clicking and whirring and shining a threatening red. A mechanical hand claws at the air, steel-plated digits clenching and unclenching, and from its other arm the form of a heavy machine gun emerges, whirring loudly as it swivels around to face her.

A distorted voice crackles from within the machine's core, a giddy and terrifying cackle oozing malice in every syllable.

_**"FOUND YOU!"** _

Kirumi's eyes go wide, paralyzed with fear. She hears Shuichi scream behind her, and the clattering of metal as he trips over a desk and tumbles to the ground. The machine stomps closer, steel joints groaning with every step, and a deep _ca-chunk_ sounds from within the gun's core. 

Then, and only then, does she finally find the courage to move. Before even a second has passed, she's disappeared, bolting out the now-open doorway and down the hall, her hand closed around the butler's wrist as he fumbles after her. She hears the robot yell and the ground begins to tremble, metallic stomping thundering behind her as she continues to flee. The two of them run, run, run for their lives, turning left, right, left again, the heaving sounds of breathing and the clatter of footfall drowned out by the roar of machinery and the pounding of the robot's footsteps.

Kirumi skids around a corner and bolts down the darkened hallway, only to run face-first into an overgrown wall with a deafening _BANG._ She stumbles backwards, seeing stars, feeling something warm and sticky trickling down her face. She weakly claps a hand to her forehead and pulls it away, grimacing at the telltale red stain now coating her fingertips. _Blood._

"Kirumi! Are you okay!?" Shuichi flies to her side, reaching a hand towards her face. "L-let me see, I think I can help-"

She gnashes her teeth and swats his hands away. _"Don't **touch** me!" _Fighting the growing sense of wooziness muddying her senses, she grits her teeth and looks upward, finding a sign reading _EXIT_ dimly flickering above the doorway. Perfect. "Shuichi," she commands, "help me get this thing open!"

He blinks. "B-but your head..."

 _"Just shut up and help me!"_ She hisses. Shuichi makes a pitiful sound and complies, weakly shoving against the door, held firmly in place by the countless vines and roots crossing its surface. "It won't... it won't budge!"

"We'll need to force it open," Kirumi barks. "On my mark, charge into it as fast as you can!"

Shuichi blinks. "What?"

"Just _do_ it! Come on, on three! One!"

The ground shakes again as a loud clanking fills the air. The hulking mass of that colossal robot emerges further down the hall, red eyes flashing as it acquires its targets. _**"THERE YOU ARE!"**_

_"Two!"_

Shuichi looks over his shoulder and gasps. "It's coming!"

 _ **"Three!"**_ Without waiting for an answer Kirumi charges, Shuichi alongside her, slamming into the door shoulder-first with a loud crash. The doors fly open with the shrieking of metal and the tearing of vines and the two stumble through, nursing their bruised shoulders, before wordlessly turning around and slamming the doors shut behind them with a loud _BANG_. Kirumi bites her tongue and braces herself, half expecting the mechanical monstrosity pursuing them to break through the walls and slaughter them, but as if by miracle the sound of heavy stomping disappears.

Shuichi flops backwards onto the floor in a disorganized heap, gasping for breath and weakly wiping his brow. "I... guess we're safe now..."

Kirumi doesn't respond, doubling over and bracing herself with her hands on her knees. "That... was _far_ too close...!"

"No kidding," Shuichi wheezes, one hand wandering to his chest. "I don't think I've ever run that fast in my _life..."_

Kirumi forces her eyes shut as her chest heaves with each breath, her heart racing a mile a minute. Was she always this out of shape? Raising her head again, she feels herself break out in a near-smile. "Well, that's... certainly _one_ way to get our exercise." Despite her best efforts, Kirumi suppresses a tiny chuckle, only for it to vanish once she notices the butler staring. "...What is it? Did I say something strange?"

"No, nothing, but..." Shuichi looks away, the corner of his mouth curling into a bashful smile of his own. "I... didn't think you were the joking type, is all."

Kirumi pauses. "...Not the type? What do you mean?" She folds her arms and frowns. "I... I will have you know, I am _exceptionally_ funny."

Shuichi stares at her, brows raised in disbelief, before his head rolls back and his body starts to shake. Kirumi steps closer, eyes widening with concern, but just before she asks him what's wrong she hears the sound of quiet giggling. He's _laughing_ at her. He continues to fight the tremors as Kirumi stares in stunned disbelief, covering his face with one hand in a futile attempt at hiding the tears fast welling up in his eyes.

Kirumi scowls. "That part was _not_ a joke. Why are you laughing? How _dare_ you?"

"I-I'm sorry, I'm sorry, but..." He stifles a sniffle and snickers quietly, his chest still shaking with the force of suppressed laughter. "It's just not like you at all... but you said it so _seriously...!"_

Kirumi's face darkens and she pouts. "You wound me, Shuichi. I will _not_ forget this insult, believe me you." Shuichi doesn't respond, still too busy trying not to laugh, and she gives up with a dramatic sigh, slouching over as her irritation drains away. "But, anyway... regardless of that, with our escape just now..." her next words catch in her throat and she coughs. "...thank you, Shuichi. You were a big help." Her face heats up again and she frowns. What's she _doing?_ It's not like her to be so sentimental.

Shuichi's laughter stops. "Really...? I was?"

"Yes, indeed. I may not like to admit it, but... if you weren't here, I doubt I would have made it through here on my own." She sighs, bends down and offers a helping hand, the hint of a smile appearing on her face. "Come on, now, we'd best be on our way. We need to find out where we are if we're to stand a chance getting out of this place alive."

Shuichi breathes out slowly as his mouth so slightly curls upwards, his bashful air of gratitude reflecting Kirumi's own. "Yeah... no arguments there." Shuichi reaches out to grab her hand, but then worry crosses his features again and he freezes. "Wait, seriously, are you okay? What about your wound?"

 _"Wound?_ What wound? What are you talking abo-" Her question answers itself as she feels something run down her forehead. _Oh. Right_ _._ She claps a hand to her face and hurriedly wipes away the evidence. "Don't worry about me," she insists, even as her dizziness returns. "I've never felt better in my life."

"There's no _way_ that's true!" Shuichi cuts in, scrambling to his feet and inching closer to her face. "Please, just let me help you-"

 _ **"Don't,"** _Kirumi slurs, staggering away from him. "I'm _fine._ Please, just... just mind your own business and let me figure out a-"

"Hey, are you okay? You seem pretty out of it." Kirumi tenses at the sound of a new, unfamiliar voice, her joints locking in place as her head snaps around. She finds the sight of a boy in a music-print cardigan standing in front of her, slowly running a ringed hand through his messy green hair. "Well, so's everyone else, I guess... since we all ended up in this situation." He lazily gestures behind him, to at least a dozen other figures all milling about on the gymnasium floor, each one wearing a uniform as strange-looking as his own. 

"Were those guys always there?" Shuichi whispers. Kirumi ignores him, wearily raising herself to her full height and straightening her jacket, meeting the newcomer's eyes with more than a little suspicion. "I apologize, but who are you...?"

The boy blinks. "Oh, that's right... didn't even think to introduce myself." He pauses to straighten his posture, mouth curling into a warm, welcoming smile as he extends a hand her way. "The name's Rantaro Amami - I'm the Ultimate Pianist. I look forward to working with you." He laughs quietly, slowly shaking his head in resignation. "And welcome to the club, I guess."

"The club..." Kirumi mutters, looking the others over.

"Yep... all Ultimates, just like me.... and, from the look of things, just like you two, as well. There's an Inventor, an Aikido Master, an Artist, even an Entomologist... seems like people here can do just about anything." 

"F-fascinating, but..." Kirumi forces herself to smile. "...you don't happen to have an Ultimate Nurse, do you?" she mumbles, before fatigue finally overwhelms her and she collapses to the floor.

~+~

Either minutes or hours later, Kirumi finally finds her footing again. Her stamina somewhat restored, she braces herself against the back wall of the gym, nursing the cut on her forehead with a handkerchief (a little gift from the Ultimate Butler.) Shuichi himself frets and frowns, uneasily inching closer to her until she swats his hands away. Ignoring his muted protests, Kirumi warily looks around the gym at the other occupants - all high school students, and all Ultimates, apparently, each one wearing a unique uniform no doubt tailored to their talent.

"Well, guess that's sixteen." The boy from earlier - Rantaro, apparently - folds his arms and sighs. "...Sixteen of us, that is." 

"Sixteen, huh... and all Ultimates, too." Shuichi sighs, nursing his sore hand. "Anyone know where we are? Or... why we're here?"

"No, but... I have a bad feeling about this..." Kirumi's eyes wander to the source of the voice, finding it in the blonde girl lurking off to one side. She wears a rather plain-looking skirt-and-blazer combination, the only standout feature on her outfit the numerous buttons and pins fitted to the lapels. "A bunch of high school students trapped in a mysterious place... gosh, I hope this isn't like the start of _Battle Royale..."_

Rantaro laughs, raising his hands defensively. "Hey, now, Kaede, that's a little morbid, don't you think?"

"I-is it? Oh, sorry..." 'Kaede' lets out a quiet, sheepish laugh and hugs one arm closer to her body. "I guess I couldn't help making weird references again... I really _am_ a cosplay freak, huh?"

"I was chased here by that... that _thing."_ The gangly boy near the edge of the group, the one with the ascot and the creepy-looking face mask, cuts in with a hoarse rasp. "Some kind of machine... even now, it may still be shadowing me." He whips something out of the lining of his tailcoat - a pad of paper and a pencil - and starts scribbling away, humming softly. "The sheer desperation I experienced, fleeing that monster... how cathartic. If only I could capture that feeling once more..."

"Nyeh..." a groan escapes the lips of the petite redhead nearby, who sleepily tugs her cape tighter around her shoulders. "I could've stopped that thing easily... at least, if I had my minions here..."

"Oh! Your minions from the _awesome_ evil organization you lead?" An energetic girl swoops in beside her, visibly bubbling with excitement. "That's, like, _so cool!_ I've never met anyone commanding ten thousand troops before! _No one_ can resist Himiko's leadership charms!"

"Himiko... leads an evil organization?" A nondescript blue-haired girl fiddles with her glasses, her voice shaky and weak. "Could they be the same ones who... y'know, brought us here?"

"I wouldn't do _that,"_ 'Himiko' mumbles, pulling her peaked cap down over her eyes. "Kidnapping... sounds like a pain... and it's not like I'd do that to myself, y'know...?"

"To yourself...?" Her overaffectionate friend gasps in horror, recoiling into an awkward pose. _"Oh no!_ Himiko's been overthrown in a coup! Well, that's just what happens when you hire _degenerate males!_ As soon as it suits you, they stuff you into a car and leave you for dead!" Her face scrunches up with fury and she stomps a foot on the floor. _"Rrrgh,_ if only I had my tennis racket, I'd _smash all their skulls in!"_

"Wait, kidnapping? Being forced into a car? That happened to you, too?" A goateed boy grunts in surprise, running a hand through his spiky purple hair. "No way... that's crazy...!"

"Kaito, we told you that already, you idiot," a grumpy-looking girl beside him mutters. She shoves her hands into the pockets of her bomber jacket, a worn-looking thing with a JAXA patch on its sleeve. "At least in space there are fewer blockheads like you filling the airwaves."

"Well, um... it's true. I remember that too," Shuichi concurs, slowly stepping out from Kirumi's shadow. "Th-the abduction, I mean... not the idiot thing," he adds quickly, noticing the other boy's look of dismay. "But the funny thing is, I... can't remember anything that happened after that... or _before...?"_ He furrows his brows and scratches his head. "Wait, what's going on? My memory's not that bad, is it?"

"What's the matter, _cherry boy?_ Has your brain gone as soft as the rest of you too?" Kirumi tenses and Shuichi splutters at the sudden interruption, a smug-looking girl slinking up to Shuichi's side. The first thing that stands out about her is her unruly blonde hair and her _very_ well-endowed figure. But then Kirumi freezes as the intruder draws closer, trying not to gawk at her numerous mechanical joints or polished chrome bezels glinting under the intense gymnasium lights - is she some kind of machine? "It's always the pervs who start forgettin' shit! What's the matter, didja fuck your own brains out whacking it too hard last night?" She sneers triumphantly as she jabs a finger into the helpless butler's chest. "Don't try to deny it, candy-ass!"

"Oh, _please,"_ a short boy with messy purple hair scoffs, shaking his head as he adjusts his top hat. His mouth twists into an unsettling smirk as he pokes her with a baton held in one hand. "I don't wanna hear that from a _walking, talking sex doll_ like you, you oversized vibrator."

The girl - _robot?_ \- visibly deflates, whimpering and shrinking away from him. "S-... _sex doll!?"_

"Now that was just _uncalled for!"_ A pale boy in a white labcoat throws himself between the two, his antenna hair twitching indignantly with rage. "Miu is the most advanced machine this earth has ever seen, not some... _accessory_ for mere sex acts! To compare her to an inanimate toy is absolutely intolerable! A more sensitive person than me might call it _robophobic!"_

The magician, or whatever he is, rolls his eyes in response, sniggering quietly. "Okay, Ki-boy, we get it, you wanna fuck the robot. Thanks for sharing."

"I do _not!"_ He goes red in the face and turns up his nose. "I just couldn't stand by and watch you insult this beautiful masterpiece of engineering any longer!" He throws out a hand in her direction. "Just look at her! Poor thing, she's probably heartbroken... wait, Miu?"

 _"Finally... **finally...!"**_ 'Miu' doesn't seem to share his devastation, instead writhing in place with her hands wrapped around her shoulders, fans whirring loudly and face glowing a bright red. "Someone _finally_ called me a _walking sex doll...!"_ Her legs nearly buckle under her weight as she shivers with delight and giggles.

"Miu!?" The inventor gasps, as much in disgust as in horror.

A wild-looking colossus in an oversized gi scratches his chin. "Missing... memory...? You hit head super hard, or what?" He pauses to adjust his glasses, the lenses comically small compared to his imposing build, before his eyes fly wide open with panic. "Wait! Gonta not sure, but... he no remember what happen, either!"

"Me neither, as much as I hate to admit it," the astronaut concurs. "I was hoping it was just me, but if everyone's got the same problem..."

"So it's the same story for all of us," Kirumi murmurs, one hand drifting to her chin. "All abducted, all awakening in this 'school...' and all missing memories."

"What do you think they want with us?" A low and gravelly voice sounds out and Kirumi looks around for the source, finding it in the puny boy skulking around by the back wall, sitting on top of what looks like an insect cage. He sighs and retrieves a candy cigarette from his jacket, chewing on it nonchalantly and shoving his hands in his pockets. "This seems like a hell of a lot of effort for a simple ransoming scheme. And believe me, I _know."_

"I... doubt this is the work of your everday gang, if that's what you are thinking." Kirumi hums quietly as she thinks aloud. "Seizing a vast facility like this, building those enormous machines, perhaps even tampering with our memories... I doubt there are many organizations in the world with the amount of capital that would require."

"So you mean, like... the _government_ did this to us?" The labcoat boy - an inventor, possibly? - shifts his weight and scratches his neck. "But why would they do something like that?"

"I'm... not sure," admits Kirumi, trying not to scowl at her own ignorance. "But whoever they are, if we can determine at least some of their objective, we'll have a much stronger chance of thrwarting their pla-"

**_"Rise and shine, ursine!"_ **

Kirumi doesn't even have time to look before she hears the blaring of an alarm and the whir of heavy machinery. With the sound of clanging metal the robots slam into the floor around them, groaning loudly as their mechanical eyes focus on the students below. _"TARGETS-ACQUIRED."_

The gym flies into a panic as the students scatter, wails and screams rising up from the floor. The tiny boy stumbles away, clutching protectively at his bug cage. "Dammit... those things again!"

 _"These ain't 'things,' genius, they're **Exisals** ,"_ a voice sneers from behind a yellow armor plate, _"and unless ya wanna end up a bloody smear underneath one, you'll do what they damn well tell ya!"_

"Everyone, stay back!" Kaito barks, rushing to the front of the group. "There's no tellin' what these things'll do! Don't worry, I got this!"

 _"PLEASE. DO-NOT-PANIC. CALM-YOURSELVES,"_ barks the green-colored mech in a grating monotone, _"UNLESS PANIC-WILL-HELP-BRING-YOU-CLOSER-TOGETHER. IN-WHICH-CASE, DISREGARD."_

The sound of a clearing throat echoes out from the red-colored robot. _"Now then, let's begin with a simple explanation of the class tri-... oh, wait a minute..."_ The sound of rustling pages sounds out from its speakers, mixed with quiet groans of frustration. _"Uh, which part do we do next again? Is this Father's line, or...?"_

 _"Screw it, this is fuckin' boring!"_ The loud _twang_ of a smashing guitar echoes from the blue Exisal. _"I wanna get to the interestin' part!"_

 _"Yeah, skip the veggies, go straight ta dessert! That's the Kuma way!"_ cheers the yellow one.

 _"But won't Daddy get upset of we go too far off-script?"_ The pink one queries in a shockingly girly tone. _"Boo-hoo... and he worked so hard on our lines, too..."_

_"IMPROVISATION-IS-A-VALID-PART-OF-PERFORMANCE. FATHER-WILL-SURELY-APPROVE-OF-OUR-SHOWING-SOME-INITIATIVE."_

_"Okay, skipping to the fun part it is! Monokubs, assemble!"_

The hatches suddenly spring open, one by one, their occupants launching out from the robots and soaring into the sky. Kirumi shields her eyes with one hand as she squints up at them, mere shadows within the blinding glare of the gym lights, only barely recognizable as five colorful blurs - red, yellow, green, blue, pink. The mysterious figures gracefully twirl through the air, finally landing on the stage and striking a pose. Then, and only then, does Kirumi make out the sheer ridiculousness of the spectacle before her - five bizarre-looking teddy bears, half-white and half-colored, hardly above a foot tall each, giggling loudly as they finally announce their arrival.

_**"Rise and Shine, Ursine! By our powers combined, we are the Monokubs!"** _

A painful, awkward silence descends upon the gymnasium, neither the students nor their apparent hosts so much as moving a muscle, until the blue-coated bear wobbles and falls over with a quiet thump, his stamina apparently depleted.

"What the..." The boy with the unruly spiky hair is the first to break the silence. "What the _fuck!?"_

 _"AAAGH! Bears!_ They're going to eat us!" The tennis girl yanks the tiny redhead into a protective embrace. "Himiko, stay back! I'll keep you safe!"

"Tenko, they're a little small for that..."

"What... _are_ they?" A low baritone queries from behind her. "Are they real? Some kind of... machine?"

The short purple-haired boy squeals with delight. "Whoa! Real robots! I think I had toys that looked like you once!"

"YOUR-SURPRISE-IS-UNCALLED-FOR." The green bear intones flatly. "BUT-YOUR-DISCRIMINATORY-REACTIONS-TO-THE-APPEARANCE-OF-ROBOTS-HAS-BEEN-NOTED."

"You see!?" The inventor snaps, jabbing a finger at the magician again. "Even _they_ think so, too!"

"Guys!" The cosplayer pleads. "Is now really the time?"

"Um, guys... guys...?" The red bear in the ninja scarf waves weakly at the audience. "Eyes up here... or something...?"

"Wait, weren't we s'posed to skip usin' the Exisals for this first part?" The yellow bear with tiger stripes fiddles with his glasses. "'Taro, did you fuck up again?"

"No, everything's just peachy! A-OK!" The hot-pink one next to him giggles in a girly voice, sparkling with delight. "'Cuz we remembered to give them their first memory this time!"

"...We did? Oh, _man_ , that's a relief!" The red one grins as he raises his arms in triumph. _"Yay!_ Second chances really are the best!"

"We wouldn't'a _needed_ a second chance if youse just did it right the first time," the bespectacled bear cuts in. "With blunders like this, no wonder we're hemorrhagin' cash like we are."

"Blunder? _What_ blunder!?" The ninja cub mashes a fist into his palm - or at least, as much of a fist as he can make with his stubby paw - and snarls. "You got something you wanna say, Monosuke!?"

The other bear adjusts his glasses again. "All I'm sayin', Taro, is that we shouldn't'a left the important plannin' to the comic relief kid in cheap ninja cosplay." 

_"Cheap ninja cosplay!?_ How _dare_ you! These are my sacred ninja stars, passed down through the Kuma family for generations!"

 _"How many_ generations?"

"Well, one, but..." His red fur stands on end as he shakes with anger. "That's _it!_ You're just trying to make me upset so I'll look bad! And it's working! You wanna go, jabroni!?"

"Who're you callin' jabroni, _jabroni!?"_

With a quick flash of silver the two draw their claws and lunge at each other, disappearing into an enormous cloud of dust, their limbs, heads, and claws only occasionally emerging from the chaos. Sounds of breaking wood, shattering glass, and ferocious shrieks fill the air, the three remaining siblings gawking helplessly just beside them, until with a resigned shrug they, too, draw their claws and leap into the fray, giggling, snarling, and slashing as they join the pointless brawl.

The students watch the scene unfold in stunned silence, unsure whether to laugh, cry, or scream. "It would seem our hosts are having a disasgreement," the creepy mask-clad boy from earlier mumbles.

"What is this, this low-rent _slapstick_ routine?" Kirumi mutters, more annoyed than anything else. "Is this someone's idea of a _joke?"_

"M-... maybe...?" The spiky-haired boy scratches his neck, before he throws back his head and guffaws loudly. "Oh, I get it! This is just some kind of TV prank, right?" He looks around, sniggering quietly. "Okay, where's that candid camera or whatever? You can come out now!"

The peppy blonde from earlier - Kaede - blinks in surprise. "Really? Is... is that it?" She breathes out in a long sigh of relief, color slowly returning to her face. "H-hey, guys! It looks like we're going to be okay-"

But then with the crackle of electricity, the lights suddenly go out, plunging the gymnasium into thick, impermeable darkness. 

A stunned silence falls across the room, before a wave of panicked cries rises up from the crowd. "What the-!? What's going on here?"

_"It's pitch black! My future is pitch black! **WAAAAAAHHHH!"**_

_"Quit crying, you degenerate! W-wait, I didn't mean **you** , Himiko!"_

_"Someone find a light, pronto! I can't see a damn th- **hey!** Don't poke me!_"

"Everyone, calm down this instant!" Kirumi orders, though even she can feel her heart beat quicker. "Panicking will do no one any good at this r-"

 ** _"Now, now, now,"_** a high-pitched voice suddenly scolds, eerily echoing around the room from seemingly everywhere at once. **_"There's no need to be so afraid."_**

"Wh-who's there!?" Shuichi yelps, shrinking behind Kirumi's back.

**_"My dear little Kubs... why don't you sit back, and let your dear father handle the show now."_ **

The sound of the Monokubs grates on the ears of all present once more. _"Yay! Father's here!"_

_**"Hell** yeah! Papa Kuma!"_

_Father?_ Kirumi wants to ask.

 ** _"At last, the moment you've been waiting for has arrived! The roulette wheel of blackened and spotless is spun! Names, talents, stories... all thrown aside, mixed up, then born anew upon the stage! All things are possible... through the God of this new world!"_** The mysterious voice doesn't answer, but the teasing, sing-song air lacing each word, and the way the little bears squeal with delight, somehow fills Kirumi's stomach with dread. 

With a sudden bang a spotlight cuts through the dark, the students recoiling away and shielding their eyes with a loud hiss. One by one, the remaining lights flicker on with a loud _ca-chunk_ , each shining on the empty podium atop the stage in a blinding bright yellow glare, until with a loud cartoon _SPROING_ a black-and-white blur leaps into the air. 

Like a horrible, twisted mockery of an angel, the form of a bear floats down to the podium, basked in the heavenly glow of spotlights, before his wings pop off his body and he lazily flops down behind the microphone. He snickers quietly as the students gawk and snarl at him, his jagged red eye glinting threateningly in the limelight, and spreads his arms wide and beams upon his audience. Even in his bizarre cartoon squeak, his words somehow ooze a terrible, threatening aura that sends chills down Kirumi's spine.

 _"My name is Monokuma,"_ he begins, _"and I am this Academy's... **headmaster!"**_

~+~

The bear tells them a tale of utter madness. 

_Class trial._

_Culprit._

_Execution._

_Killing game._

Each word on its own has meaning, and yet, placed side-by-side, they all blend together in a horrible, incomprehensible mess. She doesn't understand, she mutters under her breath, she doesn't _want_ to understand, but despite her efforts the grim reality remains, mercilessly staring her in the face.

_We have to kill each other._

"That's _crazy!"_ A shrill voice slices through the silence and all heads swivel to the source of the outburst. The blonde girl from earlier - the plain-clothed one - has rushed to the front of the stage, glaring up at the headmaster with a look of fierce defiance. Her hands ball into fists and she trembles with rage, her antenna hair bobbing up and down. "You're telling us that we're _trapped_ here, and now we have to _kill_ each other? What the heck is _wrong_ with you!?" 

"That's... that's _right!"_ The boy with the spiky purple hair steps forward as well, pumping a fist and staring daggers into the mascot. "Screw your rules, your trials, and your stupid 'game!' We're not so dumb that we'd just start _killing_ each other just to escape this place!"

Monokuma tilts his head to one side, putting a paw to his mouth. "Oh? Have we found this game's heroes already?" He giggles again in that sickening and irritating puhuhu. "Such delicious defiance... boy, no matter how many sequels I sit through, this part _never_ gets old!"

"Kaede, you _can't!_ There's no telling what'll happen if you get mad at that thing!" The tennis player pleads desperately with her and tries to pull her away, but Kaede swats her hands away and snarls. 

Monokuma waves a paw. "No, no, let her blow off steam. It's good for your health. And besides... a little resistance at the start makes the eventual fall that much sweeter! Whets the appetite, and the bloodshed! Like an _aperitif_ of assault and battery!"

"I'd really appreciate it if ya didn't compare it to a fine wine!" The yellow bear cuts in again. "I got too much dough invested in 'em for you to tank their value like that!"

The headmaster ignores him. "You might be scared of me... but I think you all know who you **really** need to be afraid of! _Puhuhuhu!"_ He covers his mouth with both paws and giggles with glee. "Look around you... fifteen other wide-eyed brats, all scared, lonely, and wanting to go home... how long will your words of solidarity last here, I wonder? Any one of you could kill, for any reason, at any time... this Academy is a place where friendship isn't real, and hope doesn't exist at all!"

"That's..." Kaede begins, but then her gaze drifts to one side and she sees it. All of them, all sixteen of them, backing away from each other and eyes shifting left and right, wide with panic, suspicion, and above all else... fear. Fear of betrayal, fear of loss... fear of _death._ Kirumi grits her teeth as she feels one hand clench at her side. She knows the bear is lying to her, that he's just trying to rile them up and drive them apart, and yet... she knows, buried somewhere deep within, that she can't disagree. She's someone who doesn't have the luxury of being naive - anyone in her line of work knows why. When given a reason, it's all too easy for people to start spilling blood.

"You see now?" Monokuma taunts. "Once the killing starts, and the fingers start pointing, you'll all realize that despair is the only choice you ha-"

 _"I don't care!"_ Kaede shrieks. Her face twists into a scowl and she stomps a foot on the floor. "I'm... I'm not gonna give in to your threats!"

The bear pauses. "Uh, excuse me, but this is the part where you're supposed to lose hope-"

"Well, _too bad!"_ She snaps. "No matter what you tell us, we're _not_ that weak! We're not going down that easily! Because... all of us, we're not playing this dumb game! Not me, not anyone else!" She whips around to the others, a pleading look in her eyes. "Right, guys...?"

The remaining Ultimates hesitate, shuffling away and murmuring quiet words of denial. Kaede's eyes widen and her spirit seems to droop, before a tiny voice pipes up from near the back.

"That... _that's right...!"_ The butler takes a shaky step forward, his voice trembling on every syllable. His hands clench into fists at his sides as he glares up at his captor. "I don't care if you threaten us... killing is... it's just too much...!"

Kirumi's breath hisses out through her teeth. "Shuichi, what on earth are you-"

"He... he right!" A booming voice drowns her out, coming from the enormous, wild-looking boy near the front. "Gonta is gentleman! And gentlemen never hurt friends!"

The agreement trickles in, one outburst at a time.

"I'd never hurt anyone! Unless they were a degenerate, but I wouldn't kill them!"

"You keep talking, and maybe _you'll_ be the one dying next!"

"They're right... they're all right...!" The words escape Kirumi's lips before she can stop herself. And then, as if moving on her own, she's suddenly the one at the front of the stage, glaring up at the headmaster and making a vicious snarl. "I'll... _we'll_ find your puppet-master, and we _will_ bring you to justice! No one has to die here, on my honor as a detective!"

Monokuma tilts over to one side, a paw slowly drifting over his mouth. Kirumi scrutinizes him as he stares blankly back at them, not making a sound... what emotion is that, hidden behind his unmoving eyes? Frustration? Disappointment? Anger? 

The bear's body hitches, a barely audible noise escaping past his mechanical lips. The noise grows louder, and Kirumi realizes it to be laughter. A smug, sickening bout of laughter. _"Puhu... puhuhuhu! **Bwa** -hahaha, ha-ha-hahaha!"_

The Monokubs stand around, stifling sniggers of their own, before they too throw back their heads and chime in, until their laughter is just as loud, just as obnoxious, as their irritating father's. They giggle and chortle and choke, tears rolling down their furry cheeks, their howling rising to a piercing shriek. Kirumi's hands ball into fists and she gnashes her teeth. They're _mocking_ her. They're mocking _all_ of them. And for the first time in a long time, Kirumi feels something she can't put into words, neither anger, nor spite, nor even fear, but something _else_ that gnaws mercilessly at her and sends chills crawling down her spine.

But then, with another cold shiver and nervous gulp, she finally realizes. She feels completely _powerless._

The Ultimates stand helpless before their captors, looks of anger and fear and despair crossing their faces, furiously staring down their captors as they place their paws on their stomachs and laugh, and laugh, and _laugh._

~+~

SERVANT OF THE STATE

PART I: END

Students Remaining: 16

~+~

_To be continued..._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not the most romantic beginning, is it? Well, worry not, we'll get there sooner or later. Bonus points to anyone who can spot all the ~~stolen dialogue~~ clever callbacks to V3 and other games.
> 
> We passed the milestone almost a month ago, but at long last this fic has accumulated over ten thousand hits and 250 kudos! That may not sound like it, but that's... a _lot!_ I didn't ever anticipate so many people would be interested in this unpopular pairing of mine, but evidently I was wrong - and thank God for that. Please, stay tuned - though this fic's been going on for over six months now, I'm not quite ready to give up on it yet. At least, not until I finish Servant of the State.
> 
> Thank you!


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